Where do I go now for my dreams
by L.Evans
Summary: my response to very old WIKTT challenge. Hermione is orphaned and returns to school on scholarship. based on books by J Webster and JK Rowling. New chapters added. Modifed to be HBP compliant. Reviews most welcome. Flames used to toast marshmallows.
1. Chapter 1

DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

I own nothing but a dog named Lucky, some would say that she owns me.

Chapter 1

It was early August. School was to start in three weeks time. While most students were unworried by the start of term, indeed, many enjoying the dog days of summer, one young witch certainly wasn't.

Hermione Granger was entering her 7th, and final year at Hogwarts, a school for witchcraft and wizardry. As the first witch in her family, Hermione learned all she could about magic from books and classes. This particular morning, Hermione was taking advantage of her parent's absence to review for the upcoming term. She was sitting outside in the back patio, enjoying the light breeze fragrant with the lavender, the last of the blooms clinging to bush, wilted and drooping. Her blanket spread under the shade of the maple tree her parents had planted the year she was born. She sprawled out, different books open, her pen flying over parchment as she made notes of her texts. Tendrils of long hair had escaped the plait and blew about her face without her notice.

As the day progressed, and the notes that Hermione was taking filled several pages, it became apparent as she closed her last text that it was beyond time to eat something. She stood, stretching her arms over her head, and easing the dull ache in her shoulders from propping herself up in the ground. The shadows were encroaching on the backyard as morning sidled into afternoon. Hermione opened the sliding glass door and headed into the kitchen. She grabbed a soda from the fridge, and put together a quick sandwich, her movements sure and quick. She took her plate and headed over to the breakfast nook to enjoy the sunshine while she ate. As she set her plate down, the ringing of the doorbell surprised her. She wasn't expecting anyone, and she was sure her parents would have informed her of any packages that needed signing for. With a frown marring her features she headed for the door.

John Banning wasn't a rookie. As a policeman this was one duty he hated. He waited patiently on the stoop of a middle-class two storey home in a suburb not far from his own. Soft footsteps could be heard approaching the door. A few moments later a young woman was looking at him quizzically through the screen.

"Yes?" She asked. Little did she know that what he was about to say was going to change her life forever.

He cleared his throat. "Are you Miss Hermione Granger? At her nod, he continued. "You'll need to come with me, there's been an accident. ."

The morgue was cold. Hermione could hardly recall the ride, she knew that the officer had asked her questions, about what, she couldn't recall, it was of little importance. As he parked the car, Hermione noticed that the sky had become cloudy, and that a rare summer storm was forming. Numbly she followed the officer inside an unremarkable building.

Each step Hermione took brought her closer to a reality she didn't want to face. Her escort walked her into a cold room and walked over to what looked to be large filing drawers. The officer pulled one drawer out, and uncovered the face of the corpse that lay inside. He motioned for the young woman to come and identify the person. Hermione took a deep breath and looked at the corpse. It was her mother. Hair matted with dried blood, Hermione could see that she'd hit her head hard enough to fracture her skull, and that she probably died instantly. It was little comfort. She shut her eyes to the horrible site and whispered. "That's my mum."

And in this same manner she identified her father, a strange numbness overcame her.

Banning shut the drawer containing her father and escorted her out of the room. The green tiles on the floor and pale yellow walls did nothing to soothe Hermione. One moment she was fine, the next a feeling of nausea overcame her.

"Excuse me," Hermione said, "I need to use the restroom." Her eyes brimmed with unshed tears. Officer Banning felt an unusual protectiveness forming for the slightly odd girl. He guided her to the facilities and waited for her to finish. He hoped fervently that his family would never have to experience this.

Later that afternoon, Hermione was taken to the office of social workers. As a minor, a temporary guardian would need to be assigned. All of this was expained to her by the kindly policeman.

Hermione sat waiting on an ugly green chair that was rather worn and uncomfortable. She hardly noticed time passing as she picked at the loose threads on the arm. After some time she was summoned in to a rather cramped office by a kind looking older woman.

"Your relations live outside the country, is that correct?" The woman asked. At Hermione's startled nod, she continued. "Your 18th birthday is also approaching, is that correct?" Again Hermione nodded.

"Have you any godparents or the like?" The woman questioned kindly. Silently Hermione shook her head.

"Well then, do you have any friends whose parents might take you in, just short term?" She asked. "Can we give any of them a ring?"

Hermione started to shake her head. All of her primary school friends she hadn't seen in years. Her wizarding friends' parents couldn't be reached by conventional methods. Certainly her friend Harry's family wouldn't take her. The thought of living with the Patil twins made her laugh. A bubble of hysterical laughter made its way out of her throat as she imagined asking to send an owl. The sound strangled in her throat as she had another thought as her eyes landed on the telephone. It was an older style one, and as Hermione though by inspiration, an idea was planted in her brain..

"Yes, um, I think the Weasleys might have me, can I make a call first?" at the nod of the social worker Hermione picked up the telephone and surreptitiously dialed 6-2-4-4-2.

The line hummed in her ear for a moment, after several moments the line started to ring.

A misty voice came across the lines. "Thank you for calling the Ministry. How may I direct your call?

"Arthur Weasley, in the department of..." she was cut off by the voice saying,

"Thank-you" interrupted the voice. A series of chips and clicks later before the call was answered.

"Hello?" Came the voice of Ronald Weasley's father. Hermione was glad she could hear him so clearly across the magical connection.

"Mister Weasley, it's me, Hermione Granger." She paused to collect herself. "I'm sorry to be c-calling you at work, but there's been an accident." her voice faltered. "My parents…"she inhaled deeply, trying to steady herself, "are dead." A shuddering breath wracked her body as she tried to control her anguish. "I was wondering if I could stay with you for a few weeks." She finished lamely.

There was silence on the other end of the line. A dull humming could be heard as she waited; the second hand on the clock turned round and round. "Are you still there Mr. Weasley?" She asked, unsure if she lost the connection.

"What? Oh, um yes." He responded awkwardly. "Yes, yes, dear, you are more than welcome to come and stay with us." His voice sounded more certain with every word. "Molly wouldn't let me hear the end of it if I turned you away."

Relief flooded through Hermione. She had somewhere to stay. "You don't know how much this means to me." Hermione sniffed, wiping her nose on a tissue. The social worker indicated that she needed to speak to whomever it was the girl was speaking to, she held out her hand for the phone and Hermione passed it over to her.

"Hello. Mr. Weasley, is it?" The worker asked. "There is some paperwork that needs to be filled out, could you come down to my office?" she gave him the address and asked what time she could expect him. Arthur looked at his watch. He knew traveling took time in the muggle world, so he said, "20 minutes, if traffics' all right. I work here in the city." After hanging up the telephone the social worker looked at Hermione and said. "It's a terrible thing that's happened young miss, but I'm certain you'll come out of it just fine."

Hermione averted her eyes. She noticed the rubber starting to come loose from the bottom of her shoe. Her life would never be the same; it was almost insulting to hear these platitudes from this woman who knew nothing about her, or her family. She did not respond to her words. Instead, she sat lost in her own thoughts.

When the woman coughed a short while later, Hermione looked up.

"Would you mind waiting for Mr. Weasley out in the reception area dear? That way you can watch for his arrival, and I can start getting the paperwork in order." Hermione quicky stood and walked out of the office choosing a chair opposite of the lift.

Mr. Weasley made his excuses from work and apparated home. The boys were out in the apple orchard and Molly was busy preparing tea.

"Arthur!" She exclaimed, "What are you doing home?"

"Well, Molly…" He responded, carefully weighing his words, "I received a call from Hermione Granger. It seems her parents have been killed in some sort of muggle accident. She'll be staying with us the rest of summer."

"Oh! That's terrible" exclaimed his sensitive wife. "Of course she'll stay with us as long as she likes." She said firmly. "I had better go and clean Percy's old room." She set the tea aside with a small sigh and headed towards the winding stairs As she passed her husband he reached out and touched her arm.

"Um, Molly," Arthur began, "I apparently need to iron out the details with the muggle authorities." He paused for a moment then said, "Molly, don't say anything to the children. I think Hermione should talk about it when she's ready."

Molly nodded her agreement. Arthur kissed her cheek before disapparating with a small pop.

Moments later Arthur arrived at a tube station restroom that had muggle repelling charms placed upon it. He stepped out of the stall and was striding towards the exit when a gruff voice exclaimed "Where do you think you're going dressed like that?" Startled he paused and inspected his reflection. He quickly transfigured his robes for something suitable to wear in muggle London and passed through the door.

He walked briskly to the address he'd been given over the fellytone. His long legs ate up the distance in little time. It was quite ingenuous of her to call him at work, Arthur mused, as not many people knew that the ministry could be contacted by regular muggle telephone, and that she had done so was simply astounding. She certainly was one of the brightest witches' of her age.

As he neared his destination he checked the addresses. In moments he found the correct building. A rather large tall non-descript building whose entrance was guarded by sliding glass doors.

Arthur approached the sliding glass doors with trepidation. Arthur watched a few people enter and exit the building. The doors appeared to be opening and closing themselves, like magic.

He watched them for a moment fascinated at muggle technology. After several minutes he joined a group making their way in to the building. He looked over his shoulder behind him, the door slid shut. How marvelous!

He recognized the lift, even though it had no gate as he was used to, but large steel doors that opened and closed like a trap. He wondered how they ever got memos or mail that way.

He pressed the up arrow after consulting the directory on the wall.

Hermione watched her friends father step off the elevator. He was wearing slightly faded khaki pants, loafers and a white button down shirt. He looked so familiar in this unfamiliar place that she stood and flung herself into his arms.

Arthur held her, rubbing her back and listening to her incoherent sobs. His shirt became damp with her tears as she let out her anguish. He held her, allowing her to cry. He knew there was nothing he could say to make it right. After a few moments she stepped back from his embrace. Her eyes reddened and puffy, her face pale in the artificial light.

The middle-aged and rather matronly social worker noticed his arrival. She straightened up the file in front of her and tidied her desk for a few moments, wanting to give the grieving girl some time to pull herself together. She noted with approval that the man seemed to be respectable, and was offering her some comfort. He appeared to be a good sort.

Watching the girl step away from the man, the social worker stood. As Hermione stepped out of his embrace and gave him a tremulous smile. The worker called him by name.

"Mister Weasley?" She questioned. At the red-headed man's nod, she waved him over in her direction. "Bring Miss Granger with you to my office." She turned on her sensible heel and walked down the utilitarian carpet into her office.

Hermione sank weakly onto one of the chairs placed in front of the woman's desk. Arthur chose one next to her patting her comfortingly on the shoulder.

"Tell me, Mr. Weasley, how is it you are acquainted with this girl?" The matronly social worker, asked, pulling up forms on her computer. Arthur tried to see what she was doing as he found ekltronics fascinating. As the monitor was turned at an angle for her use, Arthur was foiled in his attempt to see. He sat back and addressed her question.

With her attention focused on her computer monitor, she couldn't see the silent communication that was taking place just outside her line of sight.

"Miss Granger attends school with two of my children. They are quite close friends." Arthur spoke calmly. The worker typed in this information. "Are you married, Mr. Weasley? If so, the name of your wife, and occupation?" And so they went through the paperwork, Hermione explaining sotto voce some of the more unusual questions.

Near the end of the paperwork was a question that startled Arthur.

"Telephone number?" He asked blankly stalling for time. Having anticipated this, Hermione passed him a scrap of paper with her own cellular number written down.

"Oh, you mean mine." My mind must have wandered for a bit." He read the numbers on the paper back to the woman. She raised her eyebrow at the halting way he gave her this information.

"I'll just run down to the printer, and get everything in order." She explained. "You'll need to sign them, and I'll need to see your driver's license for the paperwork." She left the room, her low heels clicking with each step taking her further from the small office.

Arthur looked to Hermione and said, "Driver's license?" Hermione pulled out her own and showed it to him. A look of understanding passed over his features and he pulled out his apparition license. He transfigured it to look like a muggle driver's license. However the picture of him kept fidgeting. Getting frantic, he pulled his wand out of his shirt sleeve, and exasperatedly whispered 'petrificus totalus'. the picture stopped moving at once, although his face was frozen in an unusual expression.. He quickly slid his wand back up his sleeve. Clicking heels were approaching the door as he settled it more firmly in its harness.

The middle aged plump woman returned, flipping through the stack of papers in her hand. He handed her his license which she looked at cursorily, picture matched, name was right. She handed it back to him. "Okay, Arthur, here's the paperwork. In it, it states that you have temporary guardianship over this girl until her birthday. You will receive a small stipend from the government to cover expenses related to her care. Upon her 18th birthday, the stipend will end, as will your guardianship over her. Do you accept and agree?"

He nodded.

"Normally, we'd have your wife sign as well, but as it is only a matter of weeks, I can hardly see the need for the trouble." She flipped though the pages and indicated the areas he needed to sign. She notarized his signature and affixed her own on the appropriate line. She took the sheaf of papers and dropped them onto the copier near her desk. At long last she handed him a copy of the papers.

"Good luck, Miss Granger. I'll be in touch if there's anything else." Was all she said as she escorted them from her office to the elevator. Hermione couldn't help but feel as though that statement were an omen.

Arthur escorted her back to her home. He asked about the telephone number, and Hermione explained.

"It's a cell phone. It doesn't matter where the phone is, it will ring, or the call will be answered by a voicemail." She explained.

"A male voice? How does it get into the felly-tone?" He asked, slightly puzzled. Hermione pulled the phone from her hip pocket.

"Here, let me show you. We should change the message."

a few moments later.

Hermione fitted her key in her the lock at her door, as the door swung open, a wave of fresh tears blinding her eyes.

She walked from room to room, a strange numbness distancing her from what she was doing. She indicated the parlor, and asked Arthur to make himself at home.

"I suppose I will need to pack." She choked on the words. She turned and fled the room.

Arthur understood, and settled himself on the sofa awkwardly looking around. Under normal circumstances, he would have been delighted to see the inside of a muggle home, but wisely he knew that this was not the time to satisfy his curiosity.

Hermione walked up the stairs to her room, opened her school trunk, waved her wand. "pack" she commanded in a wobbly voice. Her school robes flew from their hangers, folded themselves and stacked themselves neatly to one side. Books flew from shelves, from under the bed, and in through her open bedroom window. She'd forgotten the books outside. In no time, her room was bare of anything magical. Hermione gently picked up her tattered bear and hugged him close, tucked him safely under her arm.

With a 'wingardium leviosa', her trunk raised in the air. Hermione grasped the handle and towed it down the stairs.

Arthur cleared his throat when Hermione entered the room.

"I thought perhaps you might want to bring your family photo albums." he said, indicating the ones on the bookshelf. "I'm led to understand that your aunt is coming to handle the estate, but those you should have."

"You're right." Hermione agreed. " I don't remember much about dad's sister. We weren't that close. Mum didn't like her." At this, fresh tears sprung from her eyes.

Turning blindly to hide them, she spied her mothers' desk. "I think I will bring this as well. It was my mum's, and I don't think she'd want my aunt going through it." Matching actions to words she reduced the desk and settled it gently into her pocket. She wandered around her home picking up items that were meaningful to her and adding them to the collection of things she was taking; her pockets bulging with the shrunken objects. When she finished in the garage she returned to the parlor. She noticed the sun setting, blazing a fiery trail of orange and crimson against the skyline. She knew deep in her heart she would never return to this house that she had called home all her life.

"I'm ready to leave." She said, he voice only catching briefly.

Arthur stood and silently grasped the handle of her trunk He placed a reassuring arm around her shoulders and apparated to the burrow.

/2

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	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I own none of this.

Dear Headmistress,

Thank-you for coming to my parents' funerals. They were honored that I was chosen to attend school at Hogwarts. They held you, as well as my magical education in high esteem. Your condolences helped me make it through the terrible ordeal of burying my parents. For that I thank you.

My continued magical education is the reason I am writing to you. Are there any scholarships that I might apply for? As you know, the death of my parents has left me in a tight financial situation. If there are no scholarships available, I will not be able to return to school at the new term. If that is the case, will you give me good recommendations for employment?

For the time being I have been staying with the Weasley family. They do not know of my financial situation, and I would rather not intrude on them any more than I already have. I also do not want to encourage Ron into thinking that there is more than friendship between us.

Respectfully,

Hermione Granger

Minerva McGonagall finished reading the letter and decided to bring it to the attention of the school board of governors. The Weasley boys attended on just such scholarships. Perhaps they would make an exception and be willing to take on a witch. Female students were not scholar shipped past fifth year, as a rule. The governors felt it a waste as they usually married and rarely found work outside the home. Why expend these galleons on a student who would never amount to anything?

Severus Snape was in attendance at the school governor's meeting. As an old family, the Prince family had a representative on the school board far longer than the Malfoy family. Severus was taking the place of his eldest half-brother, Samuel, who was vacationing abroad. He was glad the meeting was nearly over when the recently named headmistress asked to address the board.

"Recently, I received a request for scholarship." Minerva began, phrasing her words carefully. "The student in question can not financially afford the last years' tuition. This student brilliantly completed twelve O.W.L.'s despite muggle heritage. This student has been a prefect these last two years. It is this same student who I feel would make an excellent Head Girl." Severus was barely listening until he heard that. He sat up abruptly in his chair and listened intently.

Granger.

He knew at once that the governor's wouldn't consent to carry her tuition. He listened as Prewitt; an elderly warlock raised his voice. "It's a well known fact that professional witches only make up two percent of our workforce." He said pompously. His look of self-importance grated on Severus' nerves, and looked out of place on his flaccid features.

The new Malfoy representative said derisively, "Muggleborn? Really! Next you'll want us to adopt her. If she can't afford to pay, she should start looking for employment, or a husband! I expect she'll marry right off and start having a brood of half bloods." Murmurs of agreement swept down the table.

"All those in favor of sponsoring this witch say Aye" The head speaker intoned in a bored voice. Not a sound was heard.

"All those in favor of rejecting her application say Nay" The hall echoed with nays, several heartily expressed. Severus said nothing. It would not do well to speak his thoughts and mind on the matter. It would not increase his popularity with the old crowd.

Despite his silence on the matter, Severus was struck by a fit of conscience. He recalled all the snide remarks he'd made over the years.

At that moment, he felt a small stirring of sympathy for the girl. The thought of the wizarding world losing one it's finest young minds to monetary concerns irked him. The governors had plenty of money to help the girl. As he sat there pondering her dilemma, the meeting finished up, new committees and sub-committees formed. After the meeting adjourned, and Severus Snape left the room as quietly as he had arrived, deep in thought.

Hours later Severus sat in the offices of the headmistress. Students would be arriving back to school late in the evening tomorrow, and he had much he needed to take care of.

"Tea, Severus?" The headmistress indicated the waiting service on her right.. Severus eyed it wearily.

"No, thank-you. I wouldn't say no to something stronger?" He said as he smoothed a non-existent wrinkle from the sleeve of his robes. Minerva regarded him over the rim of her glasses Her blue eyes taking in his every move.

"I haven't come to have tea." He said, as a glass with amber liquid was handed to him. "As I understand it Hermione Granger is in need of a scholarship, is that correct?" He asked bluntly.

The headmistress sighed.

"Miss Granger's parents passed beyond the veil in an unfortunate automobile accident. She does not have the money for her tuition, and as the Governors have decline her tuition, she will not be returning." She pulled off her glasses and polished them on her emerald sleeve.

"I disagree with you, headmistress." Severus stated calmly. "She will be returning. She may not qualify for a scholarship from the governing board, but I have no reservations in sponsoring her education." He grimaced as another thought came to mind. "On the condition that you do not reveal me." He hastily added. What with Potter, and the order, and with Dumbledore..."his voice trailed off.

"Nonsense, Severus,since the order had found Albus's pensieve, you've been exonerated." Her voice softened. "We all miss him, Severus."

Severus ignored her intrusion. "About Granger. Does that meet with your approval?" He asked, raising his eyes to hers.

The headmistress was rarely surprised by anything. To say that this was a surprise was an understatement. She examined the potions master carefully, looking for clues as to what he was thinking. After a thorough inspection the headmistress was satisfied.

"Let me hear your conditions." She wasn't surprised to hear that Severus had thought about it before approaching her. Minerva listened attentively as he detailed his provisions and expectations.

"Full tuition coverage, and an allowance, I think," Severus paused, "I shall require a letter of receipt monthly, and a report of her studies. She is, after all, an investment in the wizarding world. I want to know right off how she is progressing."

"Ah, I see." The headmaster replied. "You see yourself as a proxy parental figure?" She asked, her voice reflecting skepticism, "Whom shall she address these letters to?"

Severus responded coolly, "I dare say parental figure is a bit strong, I hardly even tolerate the girl. Your sentimentality bespeaks house colours." Snape said with a tiny tilt to his thin lips to show he was speaking in jest.

"She may as well call me John Smith." He continued. "She can send the post to my usual address, as I think it is ubiquitous enough." He mentally reviewed his idea, and the tackiness of money talk caused a frown to cross his face.

"Please, make her understand that I do not wish to have the money mentioned. That is simply distasteful. Merlin knows I have plenty of it, the last thing I need is to have her going on and on about it, as you Gryffindors are wont to do."

"Very well." the headmistress responded. "I must say Severus, this is highly generous of you." A wide smile lit up her wrinkled face making her appear 20 years younger. "She is very lucky to have you in her corner at this time." Minerva started rifling through the parchments on her desk. There was still much to accomplish, and she wanted to clear his desk before lunch.

Severus stood and left as silently as he arrived.

Hermione was helping Molly Weasley get her children ready for the upcoming school year. As she hadn't heard back from the headmistress, she was certain that she wouldn't be returning with them. Start of term was tomorrow, and she had no way to pay her tuition. As she was folding a robe of Ginny's into her friends' second hand trunk, Hermione was wallowing in sadness. She hadn't told anyone that she wasn't returning to Hogwarts, she wasn't feeling brave enough. She was putting it off to the last possible moment. Molly poked her head around the door.

"There you are Hermione!" She smiled brightly. "You've had an owl from the Hogwart's." Molly handed the envelope over, brilliant green ink in crisp neat writing on the front visible. Molly was curious about the letter and waited expectantly with a questioning look upon her face. Hermione flushed and ignored her unasked question. She hastily thanked her and shoved the missive into her pocket, picking up another freshly laundered robe, and shaking the wrinkles from the folds.

"Aren't you going to read it, dear?" Molly asked pointedly.

"Actually, Mrs. Weasley," Hermione said rather quickly, "I asked for some advice, and I am sure it is a response. I will read it when I have a moment that I can have some time to myself. I don't want anyone to see me if I break down." She smiled in a self deprecating manner, "I am trying to be brave, but it's just so hard to be brave all the time."

Hermione's smile wobbled a bit.

Mrs. Weasley felt her heart swell for the girl, and guilt raced across her consciousness. She felt terrible for intruding.

"Why don't you use Arthur's study? He's at work just now, and you won't be bothered in there." Molly suggested kindly. Seeing Hermione's nod she turned and led the way to the seldom used room.

Arthur's study was cluttered with all sorts of muggle odds and ends. Hermione had never seen such an eclectic collection, except perhaps at the second hand shops her mum used to take her to when bargain hunting. Mrs. Weasley softly closed the door behind her, glad that she could offer the girl some privacy. In a house her size, it wasn't always the easiest thing to manage.

Hermione pulled the letter from her pocket. Fear raced through her. She lit the candles with a wave of her wand, and sat in the old chair behind his desk. It smelled of pipe smoke and old leather. She used Mr. Weasley's ebony letter opener and slit the envelope.

Creamy smooth parchment slid out of its sheath. Hermione read the parchment in disbelief. She had read Hogwart's a History many times, and she didn't truly think that she would be given a scholarship. Here was proof before her that an exception was being made. She was elated! Finally, things were going to go right! She was glad that she had purchased most of the required texts, believing that she was going to have to teach herself on nights and weekends.

Her heart lightened considerably, and it was a though a great burden had been lifted from her shoulders. She knew she could survive this tragedy. She knew this was a second chance for success. She sent a silent prayer of thanks to those who had made it possible. She quickly moved on to more practical matters, itemizing what she still needed for school term. There was nothing for it, she was going to have to go shopping this evening for the things she still needed.

Molly was surprised when Hermione came out of Arthur's study a short while later, and that she didn't look a though she'd been crying.

"Do you need anything from Diagon Alley?" Hermione asked as she came back into the laundry. Molly was busy stretching Arthur's muggle slacks onto their drying frame. She grunted out negatively as she tugged and tugged at the lower edge of the pants. Finally she got them secured on their stretchers and hung them.

"Why he insists we use those things, I'll never know!" She huffed, "No, I don't need anything. Don't be out too late dear, we have so much to do, and so little time to get it done." Molly said as she started on the next pair. Hermione nodded. She went to her room for her purse and disappeared with a large pop.


	3. Chapter 3

See disclaimer in chapter 1

Chapter 3

Hermione was glad that only Ron's parents knew of her loss. Sensitive to her feelings, they allowed her to tell Ron what she wished. Hermione had only said that she wanted to come for a visit. It was a good thing Ron was less than observant, as he took her story hook, line and sinker. Unfortunately, he thought she had fallen in love with him. She tried to keep as much distance as possible, but it was a losing battle.

Ginny, the youngest Weasley was less than convinced that there wasn't something her friend was hiding. She decided to just be there in case Hermione wanted to talk. It seemed to her that her friends' visit had come suddenly, and equally apparent was the distress her friend was in. If she didn't know better, she would think somebody died. That was ridiculous, she chided herself. Hermione wouldn't keep something like that a secret; Ginny dismissed the thought like an irritable fly around the kitchen. She was busy helping her mother, as all good daughters did. While helping she reflected on her good fortune.

Ginny was lucky. With her being the youngest normally she wouldn't be able to attend as tuition was expensive. Fortunately, she was allowed to continue on at Hogwarts because her brothers Bill and Charlie were paying her way these last two years. She loved her mum and dad, but money was always tight, with dad only working for the ministry, and mum taking care of the family. It wouldn't have been so bad, of course, but there were after all, seven of them. It also wouldn't have been so bad except that dad had turned his back on the family money.

In any case Ginny was glad that for most of her friends, money wasn't as big an issue as it was for her. Wizards and witches were becoming more liberal, but those of the old way of thinking were well cemented, and it would take a century or more to update their thinking.

The journey to Kings' Cross Station was uneventful. Hermione boarded the train and sat with her usual friends. If anyone noticed her air of melancholy, they didn't say anything. The train chugged quietly along the track and Hermione pulled out her texts. Reading her charms text, it didn't take long before her mind was practicing cadence and her wrist twitched the movements. Swooping arch and downward flick to charm the blues away, she read. There was a charm she was sure to need. Another charm to ward off coughing, she skipped in favor for a charm to relieve headaches.

What felt like only moments later, Hermione stepped from the train, her trunk in one hand, Crookshank's travel carrier in the other. She stopped and stared hard at the beasts pulling the carriages. True, she had ridden one, but these monsters truly scared her. Taking her courage firmly in had she made her way over to a carriage following Harry and Ron. Hermione settled herself in the carriage and tried not to look at the thestral pulling the carriage. Instead she tuned in to hear the last of the gossip.

"I'm sure mum and dad will be glad to have me done with school." Ron grumbled. "I begged to be let off, but they insisted. So here I am." His displeasure at being over-ruled was obvious. "Ginny, how'd you get roped into another year?" He asked.

Ginny blushed pink. "Well, Bill and Charlie are paying. I said I'd pay them back, but they won't hear of it. I don't want to be stuck like mum, brilliant, but no employment prospects because I didn't finish school." She said, her conviction ringing through her words. Hermione understood where she was coming from, having faced the same dilemma.

A short time later, Hermione was ensconced at the Gryffindor table between her friends. She looked about the great hall, cataloging all the people she was lucky to be seeing one more year. A glance at the slytherin tables caused her to amend that thought. She hadn't missed them at all, nor did she think it was about to happen after school was finished. The sound of fine crystal being tapped rang like a bell through the hall. Hermione turned towards the high table where the sound had originated and focused her attention on the new headmistress.

In true Dumbledorian style, McGonagall gave the regular start of term notices, indicated that the school governors were present and welcomed them to the start of term feast.. Hermione looked them over with a keen eye. One of these people was responsible for her being here, she knew. She looked them all over, and could see no spark of kindness in any of them. Turning she watched as new students were sorted.

Dinner was served and soon plates were filled. She and her classmates piled their plates high, and soon emptied them. A short while later had Hermione heading towards the gargoyle protecting the headmaster's office. As she approached the great entryway, she could see that someone was leaving. By the light of Hagrid's start of term bonfire, she could see the shadow of a tall man making his way to the gates of the school. The shadow was long and stretched, and it seem to Hermione that the man looked like giant daddy long legs spider holding his wand arm high in the air, using his own spell to light the path.

Hermione wondered who the visitor was, and why they hadn't eaten in the great hall with the other school governors. Deciding it wasn't any of her business, Hermione hurried passed the glass tubes containing a record of house points, and could see that already a Gryffindor had lost 10 points. She only hoped it wasn't Harry.

The Gargoyle sprang aside at the password, Sherbet Lemon. The stairs started revolving upwards, Hermione nervously stepped on, she grabbed the rail for support as it bore her upwards towards the office of the Headmistress. As the stairs stopped in front of an old door, Hermione raised her hand and knocked twice in quick succession.

"Come in," called the familiar voice. Hermione pushed open the door and entered the circular room that she had only heard about. Fawkes perch stood empty in the corner.

Hermione started at the portrait of Dumbledore dozing in his frame.

"Tea, miss Granger?" Asked her former head of house.

Hermione shook her head. "No thank-you. I'm afraid that it's rather too late for it." She glanced nervously around the room and saw that several former headmaster and headmistresses portraits hung upon the walls. She noticed that Dumbledore also appeared to be sleeping.

"Is it rude, I wonder, to wake a sleeping portrait?" She asked aloud.

"Please sit down, Miss Granger." McGonagall said, "Did you, by chance happen to see the man departing the front doors on your way to my office?" She asked.

Hermione shook her head. "No ma'am. I only glimpsed his back as he was walking down the front pathway. Why?" She asked, her curiosity getting the better of her. She thought back and reflected that he was a tall man, and thin. Of that, she was certain. Idly she mused that he would have to be older, if he were to be a governor as she presumed.

"Well, Miss Granger," The headmistress continued, leaning her elderly body forward in anticipation of sharing something secretive. "That man, acting as a school governor, you might say, has offered to pay for your continuing education. He has even offered you an allowance so that you will be on equal footing with your peers." She tucked a stray hair behind her ear and continued. "The only thing he requires, is a letter from you once a month, preferably the day of your allowance, letting him know how your studies are going. He does not wish you to mention the money directly, as he says, that is for commoners, but instead you are to write to him much as you would to your parents." She reached over and patted her hand reassuringly. "Also, he requires that you maintain passing grades in all of your classes, which I am sure you can handle." Minerva smiled at her encouragingly. "You really are quite fortunate to have such a benevolent person willing to take on the burden of your magical education." she smiled leaning back in her chair, stretching her thin bony legs outward.

Hermione's brain seemed to be overloaded. Who would do this for her? "Who is it I shall be writing to, in honour of this scholarship?" She asked.

"Well, Miss Granger," She started, his words coming slowly, and with care, "he insisted that his anonymity be ensured. He doesn't care for children, per se. Also, he doesn't like people to know of his somewhat charitable nature, therefore, you shall address your letters to John Smith, to be delivered to the towers. If he has need of contacting you he will do so. Although" she cautioned, "He most probably will not be writing back to you as he is a man with many responsibilities." she finished.

Hermione couldn't take any more in. "Thank-you, professor, I'll do as you say." She promised. She stood and hurried out the door without taking her leave. The newest headmistress watched her leave with a small smile gracing her features.

/4\\\\\\

September 1st

Dear Mr. John S. Smith,

I've just arrived at school and learned of you, and your willingness to help me through school. Thank-you! It means so much to me to be able to continue my education. I hope I can live up to your expectations. I feel so lost with my parents gone, and, as the headmistress suggested-- I shall write to you as I have my parents.

I feel ever so lonely, and, no matter which way I turn, it appears as though everyone is looking at me, as if they knew my secret. Before, I was just a muggle-born witch. Now, I am an orphaned muggle-born. I feel inadequate and lonely. I think that people can tell. I wonder if the word orphan is written in ink across my forehead, the way some people treat me. My pride keeps me from sharing my pain, but I am sure I can trust you to keep my secrets.

I wish I had a moment to see you. When I was making my way to the headmasters' office I saw you. Now, I didn't see you very well, you were on your way to the front gates. I saw your shadow, and my, you are tall aren't you! With your wand arm raised, and your other swinging at your side, it looked as though you were a giant daddy-long legs spider. You've said to call you John Smith, but that just won't do. I am sure we can come up with a more creative name for you; perhaps one that fits your personality. Well, I am a firm believer in first impressions, therefore since you remind me of a spider, so shall you be. Daddy long legs Smith.

Your faithful student, on her way to finishing NEWTs,

Hermione Granger

September 7th

Dear Daddy long legs smith,

My friends wonder why I haven't had an owl from my parents. I don't think I'm ready to share with them my loss. My parents loved me, and I loved them. There wasn't anything I couldn't talk with mum and dad about. Many times dad knew what I was thinking, and when I was thinking it. I miss them terribly.

They taught me so much about life and living. I was never taught to be afraid. I always tried to be the best at everything. Perhaps that is why I am in Gryffindor.

Gryffindors are famed for their courage. Mine seems to be in short supply. I wish I knew what to do about a problem I'm having. My friend, Ginny keeps looking as though she's about to ask me what's wrong, but I am grateful that she doesn't. I should have told her what happened to my parents, but I couldn't face it. Now it's been a few weeks, and I am afraid of how angry my friends will be with me for not telling them sooner. I wish I knew what to do.

On a happier subject let me tell you about my educations. You are getting your galleons' worth, Daddy dear. I delight in telling you that I taking no less than 7 Newts. Advanced transfiguration, Charms, Defense against the Dark Arts, Advanced Arithmancy, Muggle studies for the professional, Potion's and their practical applications level 7, and Herbology. It's quite a load really, but I need to keep my mind busy, or else I dwell.

This is a short letter to let you know that I haven't forgotten about you, or your goodness. I'll write to you once I get caught up on this weeks work.

Sincerely,

Hermione Granger

\\\\\5/

September 12,

Dear Daddy-long-legs Smith,

I have been so busy this week. Just now, it's near bedtime. I am sitting in the Gryffindor common room in a squashy armchair watching my friends play a game of Wizards's chess. I was thinking about you and wondering about you.

According to Hogwarts, a History, only the oldest and most pure of blood have seats on the school governing board. I am ever so glad that you took interest in me, and my education. I think you must be very kind. Why, I bet it's you, or your family that ensures every last staff-member has a Christmas bonus. One year, Professor Vector was able to purchase a new slide ruler, as his old one was wearing out. I remember seeing him using it as class was starting last year. If I remember correctly, and I assure you that I do, the caretaker also has a new overcoat. It suits him so much better than his old one.

I feel very honored and privileged to be here at Hogwarts. I shall always endeavor to meet your expectations.

As you expect me to report on my education, let me tell you what I am learning. In Professor Flitwick's class, I am learning some tricky charms. One that I have special interest in mastering is the untraceable charm. That charm helps to hide people who don't want to be found. I could sure use that when I need some time away from my friends.

I love advanced transfiguration! The headmistress teaches it. She is very disciplined, and I hope one day to be just like her. She is an animagus. She is one of only seven this last century, in case you didn't know. It will take much study and practice, as well as power, but if it is at all possible, I should like to be the next.

Advanced Arithmancy is going...well, it's going. The new applications of algorithms are making the subject a little more difficult. Especially as I have left my trusty calculator at home. Oh, what I would give for another just like it.

Muggle studies for the professional is such a laugh. Really, it ought to be taught by a muggleborn. Some notions that pureblood wizards have about muggles are quite absurd! I recently heard in lecture about celery phones. Can you imagine! Speaking of cell phones, I have a muggle cellular telephone that I've left with the Weasley family. It gives them a telephone number, much like the magical equivalent to the floo that the muggle government can reach them on. The social worker had asked for their number, and, as they didn't have one, I used one readily available to me. I had to think fast, daddy dear, or I might have ended up in a dreadful home for miscreant youth. One might say the deception was rather slytherin of me. I will admit privately that sometimes I have Slytherin tendencies. It really is too bad that you have to be a pureblood to be in that house. It really is tiresome to be the cleverest witch in my house. On the other hand, I'd have Draco Malfoy as a house mate. Ughh!

So now you know about the falsehood I perpetrated. I come with a dilemma. Unfortunately, there is a charge for use of cellular telephone service. The bill is coming due, and I need to be sure to pay it. I know that is beyond what you have agreed to, but I was hoping there was some odd work that I could do, for you, or someone you know. I need to earn about 10 galleons a month. I am very talented in many areas. I am sure there is something I could do to earn it. Think about it, and let me know (but hurry!).

Each day that passes I realize just how alone in the world I am. I have taken to sending myself an owl once a week with a letter to myself. I say it's from my parents, and it keeps my friends from guessing. My lie keeps getting bigger. I've told my friends that my parent's and I don't see eye to eye on suitors. Lavender Brown and Ginny seem to understand. It makes me wonder if they really are having problems like that of their own.

Ron has just beat Harry and they are packing up the game. The fire is glowing embers and the torches are burning wearily in their sconces. I am quite tired. I'll finish this off tomorrow and post it. Goodnight.

September 14.

Dear Daddy-long-legs,

I just realized that I hadn't finished this yet. I'm apologizing for letting so much time pass, but I hope you will understand that Newt year is busy! The first two weeks of term are done. I'm getting back into the rhythm of things. I had potions and Defense against the dark arts today. I am glad that both Harry and Ron decided not to continue with potions. I think they do okay when the professor isn't breathing down their necks, but honestly, I think he hates them. At least I know he hates Harry. Harry and he had a problem a few years ago, and Harry hasn't said a thing about it, except that he will never forgive him.

Class is so much more tolerable now that I have Terry Boot as my potions partner. I think the professor is brilliant, but he scares me a little too.

Defense against the Dark Arts Newts are required for those who want to go into auror training. I didn't especially want to take it, but my friends are. Since we usually end up in the same scrapes, I thought it best to be prepared.

I am coming to terms with my parent's deaths. In a way you are responsible for that. I know that somewhere in the world, there is someone looking out for me, and for that I thank you.

Warmest regards,

Hermione

\\\\\6/

September 14

Dear Daddy-long-legs Smith,

I know I wrote you earlier in the day, but I just couldn't wait to tell you! After I left the owlery, it was almost time for dinner in the great hall. I hurried back to Gryffindor tower to meet up with my friends. Harry and Ron were working on their divination homework, and were making the most absurd predictions about each others lives. Ron saw me and started teasing me about my own suitors, or lack of them. He said that since I was so wrapped up in schoolwork this year, that perhaps I ought to apply for the job posted on the message board. That took me by surprise. I headed to the message board, and sure enough, a job was posted. Now the job itself is a little scary. Professor Snape, he teaches potions as I am sure you already know, is looking for an assistant to help him gather and prepare magical plants and other ingredients four times monthly; on the eve of each phase of the moon and on Halloween to be more precise. He is willing to pay on the correct harvesting, and preparation of said roots and plants. No dunderheads need apply.

Well as quickly as I could I hurried to the dungeons. Ron was saying something as I left, but I am not sure I want to know what it was. He can be such a prat sometimes. I don't know what I ever saw in him. He can be so immature. I fairly flew down the corridors and stairs making it to his office in what must surely be record time.

Before my courage deserted me, I knocked firmly three times. Not too few to be mistaken as noise in the corridor, and not too many to be ostentatious. The professor bid me to enter. He was busy grading parchments, and he looked a little harassed as I entered the small office. I was momentarily afraid he would take points, but he didn't. Instead, he looked at me, with his eyebrow arched, his lips compressed in a flat line. My anxiety increased a hundred fold. What use could I possibly be to the Head of Slytherin. I apologized for disturbing him and turned on my heel to flee.

"Clearly, I was mistaken," He drawled. "Never have I seen such a show of cowardice as from the esteemed head girl of Hogwarts, and Gryffindor know-it-all." His voice as menacing as ever across my nerves continued. "The sorting hat must have been mistaken. 10 points from Gryffindor" That's what he said, word for word, gryffindor's honor. You will never believe what happened next. He called me back to his office. I sat in what felt like the hot seat.

He asked if I was interested in the position he had. Of course I said yes. I told him that it would be a good way to earn some extra money, and I was sure that I could do as he wanted.

He offered me the position on a trial basis. If I do well the job will be mine. I can't tell you how relieved and excited I am. I'll earn 5 galleons each night for the harvesting, and the preparation will earn me a bit more than that. This whole week I've worried about what to do, and now, I have a solution. Who knows, perhaps if I do a good enough job, he'll find other preparatory work for me to do. One can only hope! Don't worry about me Daddy dear, I'm learning to be independent.

Happily,

Hermione

7

October 1st,

Dear Daddy-Long-Legs-Smith,

I received by owl post this morning a note from your secretary, a mister Samuel Prince. He introduced himself as your secretary, and reminds me to concentrate on my studies. Enclosed were two galleons. I assume that is the pocket money you meant for me to have. I thank you for it, even though I am not supposed to mention it.

I am sorry that I haven't written. As I told you, I have started a job outside my studies for Newts assisting professor Snape. It hasn't been as bad as I feared working for him. He is very brilliant, and he expects nothing less than perfection, a quality that I admire. He seems inclined to talk, and I am learning so much just by working with him. . It has been a unique experience for me. I have had glimpses of the man underneath that abrasive exterior. He has the oddest sense of humor, and sometimes I do not know if he means to be insulting, or whether he is being bluntly observant. He certainly doesn't pull his punches, but I liked his honesty.

I found myself telling him about my parents. I can't believe I did that. I may as well have given him a loaded weapon as I haven't even told my friends about my parents. He told me that as a member of the staff he was privy to that information. It's a relief not to have to lie to him.

I cried for a bit, and I probably ruined the bowtruckle eggs that I had harvested from a beautiful oak tree. Oddly, he didn't say anything about them. Instead he related quietly a story from his own youth about the loss of his father. I could see that he understood my pain, and oddly, that was the best comfort I could have received.

I had an owl from Arthur Weasley. He was my temporary guardian until I became of age. He sent along to me the paperwork of my parents' estate. Sadly, I had to sell the home that I have always known to pay off debts that my parents had. My aunt packed up their home and handled the paperwork. She knows about me being a witch, and studying here, but she can't write to me here, something to do with the statute of keeping the magical world hidden from muggles. Instead she sends them to Mr. Weasley at the Ministry post office box, and he forwards them to me unopened. At any rate she tells me that I must keep in touch. As the only child of her brother, she feels it is her duty to be a mother figure to me. I find it absurd. I have only seen aunt Jasmine four times in my life. I am well past the age of needing a mother's advice growing up. I do believe Molly Weasley would offer far more practical, and applicable advice, at any rate.

Did you know Daddy, that I used a time turner in my third year here at Hogwarts? I had special permission from the ministry, and the headmaster. Because of its use, I am quite a bit older than my peers. If my calculations are correct (and I assure you, they are) then I am one year older than my peers. I am guilty of adding in extra hours and time to sleep as well as study when I had that neat piece of magic.

Now couple that fact with the general knowledge that boys mature more slowly than girls. Also, don't forget that my birthday is in autumn. I'm telling you this so that you understand that I am nearly two years older than Harry and Ron, my best friends. I sometimes see their antics as childish, but they are loyal and sometimes amusing. So although I am quite a bit older, its nice to have friends, even if sometimes I tell them they're being childish.

I mention the time-turner because I am also using it again this year. Seven Newts and a job do tend to stretch my time a little thin. That and, I have a small addiction to reading. I read everything I can get my hands on. Who knows, maybe by the end of the year I'll have added another year or two to my life.

School has been going alright. Herbology is more interesting this year as we are learning the more obscure uses for some of these potent plants. I had no idea that unicorn root, which grows from the tears of unicorn's has powerful properties, and can only be collected by women who retain their innocence. Its magical properties are nearly endless. I think I might suggest to professor Snape that we should gather some on the next full moon. As it is Halloween, it should be even more potent. Do you think it prudent of me to share with him my ability to gather these roots? I may die of embarrassment. I'll have to think about it some more.

Daddy its late and I have classes to study for. At least three papers to outline, and research, then write. I'll say goodnight and send this off to you.

Always,

Hermione.

8-----

Disclaimer: See chapter one. I own nothing of value.

October 8th

Dear Daddy-Long-Legs,

What has been a week for you has been three for me, but trust me, I am not complaining! Professor McGonagall has written me a pass for the restricted section. She sees no reason to keep me from learning, and as she knows of my chronological age, she can hardly justify keeping me out of that part of the library.

Between you and me, I'll admit to being a little tired. It seems as though when I am holding a book in my hands the arms of the clock turn so rapidly it as almost as though I have just sat down. Every night this week has passed for me in just such a manner. I am keeping up with my course work, lest you think I am neglecting them. I do have my priorities after all!

I love my charms class, the trickier the better. I love the challenge of getting the wand wave just right, the incantation and wand movement synchronously ending with just the right flick. Professor Flitwick says I have real talent, and that I should consider studying well past the magical education that I will receive here at Hogwarts. I feel driven to learn all I can while I can, and so I'm taking his suggestion seriously.

My good friend Ron has asked me to the Halloween dance. I fear he thinks that we can take up from where we left off over a year ago. Yuck! I am a different person now. Yes, I love him dearly, but only as a friend. I have known him for 8 years of my life, whereas he has only known me 6. Truthfully, he's a bit young for me.

Aren't I lucky then, that I had a ready excuse? What excuse do you wonder, daddy dear? Did you forget about my job? Let me assure you that I haven't! I have earned enough to cover my expenses of the 'celery' phone, postage, a nice quill and a new pot of ink, a sheaf of parchment, and, muggle 3 X 5 index cards. Why those cards, you wonder? It is simple daddy. I use those cards to study from every spare waking moment that I have. You didn't honestly think that I just remembered everything, did you? It's a trick my dad taught me when I started taking Latin between first and second year. How else was I to get intonation and pronunciation right?

Speaking of dad, I really miss him. I used to write long lengthy letters to him and mum. They used to read them in front of the fire, sometimes laughing, and sometimes crying. They were always full of advice for me. It seems as though there's a hole in my life, and in my heart. I am learning to live with the hurt. It becomes more bearable each day.

No one here knows much about my mum. She was the easy-going one in the family. It was through her that I am sure I inherited my sense of adventure. After all, look who I have for friends! The boy wonder (and I say that with all the affection I have for him), and young Messrs. Weasley. They still try and lure me out with that invisibility cloak of Harry's, but I am not enticed. I have to remember that I am here by your good graces, and I don't think I could bear being asked to leave the school for a simple lark.

I could go on all day about some of the adventures we have had, but, I won't do that today. I am sure some of them have ended up on my school report at any rate, so you probably already have a good idea of what I'm like.

It's starting to get late, so for now I bid you goodnight. I'll just kip up to the owlery and send it off to you. Have a good night daddy, and thanks for being there for me.

Your friend,

Hermione


	4. Chapter 4

Severus Snape was sitting at his large maple desk in his office marking parchments. A medium sized brown spotted owl was sitting on the magical window ledge that led from his quarters in the towers, to his offices in the dungeons. The bird was impatiently tapping it's beak against the glass in hopes of garnering the attention of the rooms' sole occupant.

Snape allowed a small sigh as he stretched his long legs. His limbed creaked mildly and his knee made a loud popping noise that was unexpected. Getting old was hell.

As it was well past the hours of consultation, Severus was relaxing in his trousers and shirtsleeves. His bare feet, long and rather bony, tread softly on the thick carpet and closed the distance to the windows. His long fingers released the catch and allowed the bird to enter.

Severus recognized the handwriting on the parchment at once. He offered the bird a treat from the bowl that sat on the windowsill for just such a purpose. While the bird was crunching away at its reward, Snape freed the letter and opened it quickly, a smile lighting his face of which he was unaware. Eyes never leaving the parchment in his hands, he made his way over to his desk. Finding his destination, he perched on the edge of the dark wood. His leg dangling freely swung slowly back and forth as he read her neat script. It was no small irony to him that she was so candid with her daddy long legs, but in his presence she was completely different. That was something that needed to change.

October 10th

Ron Weasley was baffled. He could tell that he and Hermione were growing apart. He waited for her to come down from her dormitory, skipping breakfast in the great hall. He impatiently drummed his fingers on the overstuffed red armchair. Things had been going so well between them before school term ended for the summer, he recalled. Then she had come and stayed with his family a few weeks before start of term.

True, she did seem a little distant then, but he thought it was just nerves. Now he was wondering if it was something more. He heard someone coming down the tower stairs and looked up in time to see his favorite girl come around the bend. Her hair was as wild as ever, and she had it pulled back in a ponytail. She looked a little tired, he thought. He would try to make sure she went to bed early tonight.

Hermione was surprised to see Ron waiting for her. She smiled at him. Ron could tell there was something different about her smile. Since when did she smile at him that indulgent smile that his mother usually wore?

"What's up?" Hermione asked. She was a little surprised to see Ron waiting. Was he waiting for her? It appeared so. Normally she didn't sleep so late, but with one thing and another, it was quite late before she was able to get to bed. She had heard Lavender and

Parvati leave ages ago.

"I could ask you the same question!" Ron said, a little forcefully. His temper was getting the best of him. "Come for a walk with me?" He asked a little more quietly. Hermione sighed. She knew this day was coming. She just hadn't thought it would be so soon. She nodded her head.

"Let me grab a cloak." She returned back up the stairs and grabbed her warmest one. She ran a brush through her hair again and pushed it away from her face. She secured it with a scarf and hurried down to join her friend.

Ron was waiting with his cloak draped over the crook of his arm. Hermione was quick, something he appreciated as he wasn't a very patient person. When she reached the bottom stair he headed towards the portrait hole.

"How bout we get a picnic?" Hermione suggested. "It has been awhile since dinner last night, and I'm starved!" Ron smiled his first smile of the day. He hadn't relished skipping breakfast. The smile changed his whole countenance. He looked like a cute little boy. Hermione smiled back.

A while later they had settled under a great tree not far from the lake. The squid was swimming lazily in the distance. Hermione wished her life were as uncomplicated as that. Nothing to do but swim, rescue the occasional student who fell in. How simple it all seemed. She yearned for that simplicity. Instead here she was, about to have a heart to heart talk with Ron, the first boy she ever loved, but grew to old for.

Hermione feared he would hate her, she marveled for a moment how much her feeling had changed about him in such a short amount of time. Ron spread the thick blanket on the ground beneath an ancient oak tree. He leaned up against it, his long legs stretched outward. Hermione settled herself beside him, laying with her head in his lap. Ron brushed the stray hairs that were coming loose from her scarf away from her face. It was nice and it was comfortable. She captured his hand and held it in her own. He looked into her eyes.

"It's over, isn't it?" He asked with a sigh. She squeezed his hand gently and pressed a kiss to his palm. She loved him, just not as she used to. Her heart was filled with affection for him. She knew he would grow up to be a powerful wizard, and she hoped he would find someone who could love him as he deserved.

"Ron, it's not you...it's me." She said, truly meaning it. "I've changed so much, grown so much over the summer. I do love you, dearly. You and Harry are like brothers I never had. I'm sorry." She closed her eyes cradling his palm against her cheek. A silent tear slid down into her hair. "I don't want to lose your friendship. It's meant everything to me." She whispered as he withdrew his hand. She opened her eyes to look up into his.

"Hermione…" Ron said, with a sigh, for once at a loss of what to say. He knew this would happen. His heart was breaking into pieces. He loved her. He wasn't sure when it was that he started liking her, but he had, and now he was sitting here, his world falling apart under this ancient tree. He was afraid he was losing his best friend in the bargain. How dumb could he have been to fall in love with his best friend? "Are we still going to be friends?" He asked quietly.

"I wouldn't have it any other way!" Hermione responded with feeling. She sat up and launched herself into his arms and hugged him fiercely. Ron returned her hug fiercely and tried to ignore the pain in his heart.


	5. Chapter 5

Professor Severus Snape was looking out the window when he noticed two people carrying a basket towards the lake. He watched as they settled themselves under a tree. He recognized the persons as none other than Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley. It set his teeth on edge. He made a conscious effort not to grind them as he started grading 50 cm long essays. He finished marking all of the 2nd year parchments on asphodel, and looked up before moving on to the third-year Hufflepuff.

Hermione had her head in that prat's lap! A vein throbbed in his temple. He took great pleasure in giving one dunderhead a large A across the front. He roughly pulled the next one towards him. He sensed movement out the window and jerked his head upwards in time to see Hermione and the Weasel rolling on the ground in each others arms. Color flared up his cheeks, unconsciously he ground his teeth. He pushed himself away from his desk, and strode from his rooms. He looked like thunder to any who saw him in the hall Students scattered as though a parting of the sea was occurring no matter which direction he turned.

Hermione hadn't seen Professor Snape in the great hall during dinner. That's odd, she thought, as he usually was present at meals, if only for a few moments. She was glad that she and Ron had come to an understanding. He sat next to her eating enough food to make her sick as she piled on her own choices. Her buttered roll, chicken and salad were more than adequate for her appetite. Her heart felt light knowing that they were going to be alright. Ron would make a good husband to some lucky girl, Hermione thought. As she enjoyed the conversation flowing around her, she reviewed what she would need to do this evening.

It was the waning moon and she wanted to be sure to harvest the correct plants, in the right method. She was anxious to please her boss, and also wanted to show that she did pay attention. After finishing her meal, she dashed to her room to grab her list of likely to harvest plants, and methods and reviewed it on her way to the dungeon. She knocked as was her custom, but no answer met her ears. She knocked again, and still was met with no reply.

As she was giving up, she heard footsteps that sounded rushed coming to answer. The professor opened the door. He nodded curtly and said, "Follow me." Without waiting he strode down the hall. Hermione hurried to keep up.

October 10th,

Dear Daddy-Long-Legs,

It's been a long day today. I had a picnic with my friend Ron. You remember me telling you about him. I used to be his girlfriend at the end of last term. Unfortunately, I don't think we are well suited, and with everything going on in my life, I realized that he was a much better friend than boyfriend.

I really wish I could love him the way he loves me. He has some great qualities, like loyalty, fun loving nature, he's kind, compassionate and so many other things that I can't think of. Unfortunately, all I feel for him is deep friendship. I couln't bear to lose it, perhaps that's why I was reluctant to admit it was a mistake. We walked the grounds for a bit, talking of quidditch, and Gryffindor's chances of winning the cup this year. Although this subject matter is not of much interest to me really, it's something we can talk about that he knows more about than I do.

We came to an agreement today to just be friends. I am glad that I didn't lose his friendship as I've lost so much else these last few months.

Let me tell you how my evening went. Tonight was a harvest night. The professor was nothing but curt and unresponsive. I tried talking with him several times about what we were doing, even tried to ask questions. He either didn't hear me, or he was ignoring me.

I wonder if he regrets hiring me. I have to go back tomorrow and help prepare the plants we harvested. I wish I knew how to handle his moods.

I have learned so much lately studying the books in the restricted section. Madam Pince has a wealth of knowledge. I usually ask her before I check out a book if there's anything that I should be wary of. She told me just last week not to leave one particular book open unattended as all sorts of things might come out of it. I don't know if she was serious or not, so I followed her advice just to be safe.

Professor McGonagall has been helping me with the discipline needed for self transfiguration. I am getting better at focusing. I get this warm feeling in my chest, and it tingles outwards. When the tingling starts, I lose focus, and if I can teach myself to stay focused, I will be able to transform into whatever animal I am on the inside. I think I'm afraid that I will be a horrible animal, or a useless one. Perhaps it is my fear that keeps me from focusing. I'll have to think about that some more. See, daddy, you do help me work out my problems. Thanks again.

Sleep is a problem for me, or should I say, lack of it. I have been so busy reading, learning, practicing, studying, and keeping up with friends, that I am simply not getting the rest I need. Perhaps I shouldn't be trying so hard, but wouldn't you? I feel a desperate need to learn all I can, while I can.

I hope that the professor will keep me working for him all year. I know its only supposed to be temporary, but I want to attend college in the fall. If I save enough, and earn enough, it just may be possible if I work part-time too.

Ginny Weasley wants to go too. She's talked with her brothers and they said they would help her. She's lucky to have such a supportive family. I pretend that I have one in you. Daddy I think about you often. I wonder if you think about me.

Hermione

11----

October 18th

Dear Mr. Rich-man Smith,

You know, you have never answered any of my questions about you. I wonder if you really do care about me, or if it's just the prestige you get for having funded so many orphans. Who knows, maybe you'll get an order of Merlin, first class or something for giving all your money away. Or maybe you're indifferent. Maybe you're up in your 'tower' annoyed at having received another letter from me. Well, from now on, I will only write to you once a month as you require.

Hermione

October 19th,

Dear Daddy -long legs,

I am sorry about yesterday's letter. I was feeling terribly sad about my parents, and feeling as though no one cared for me. I got myself worked up, as Gryffindor tend to do, without a thought I ran off to the owlery to write you that horrid letter. I later found out that I was catching a cold on top of everything else.

Please burn that horrible note. I didn't mean any of it!

I worked for the professor last night after madam Pomfrey gave me some pepper-up potion, but my heart wasn't in it. The professor was distant with me, and he seemed a little on the cool side. I tried to not take it personally, but I kept thinking about that note. Please, please, please forgive me. I didn't mean any of it.

Your friend,

Hermione

P.S. I feel terrible. I won't rest until I know you forgive me.

P.P.S. I really, really, really, wish you'd forget all about that nasty note.

October 19th,

Dear Daddy long legs-

Thanks for the chocolate frogs. Your have excellent taste. Now that I know you are reading your letters, I shall always try to be nice, and respectful. I am glad that you've forgiven me. I will always try to be a good respectful girl, and honor your wishes, much as your true daughter would.

Your good friend,

Hermione

October 25th

Dear Daddy long legs,

I have been busy with school, and with my job. I like working for the potions master. He is so brilliant! I have come to a decision by the way, about that question I asked you awhile ago. I am not going to let my boss know that I can gather unicorn root, but instead, I plan on making it a Christmas present to him. What do you think of that? It isn't as though I could go out and buy a present for him, but this way, I can get for him something he cannot procure himself. I hope he won't refuse such an invaluable gift.

That also brings me to my next question. I am quite skilled at potion making, not a master of course, but a joint soothing compound, or ache-away rub is well within my abilities. Is there a particular potion that you are running low on that I could prepare for you to show you my gratitude? Do let me know. I will be glad to be able to return in some small measure the favor you have granted to me.

The professor is waiting for me and we have so much to do. I'll finish this letter tomorrow. Goodnight, daddy dear.

Good morning daddy, did you miss me? I had such an adventure last night. I was busy harvesting arnica when I found myself entrapped by the branches of a wrestling willow; the wrestling willow is in the same genus as the whomping willow, so really it's a distant cousin to the willow on our school grounds.

I shouted for help, and the professor came. Just as soon as I would get free from one set of branches, another was in their place. Finally, after releasing a few loud guffaws, professor Snape set me free. I don't think I had ever heard him laugh. I would have enjoyed hearing more of it, just not at my expense. The rest of the evening fairly flew by. Much to my chagrin I could hear him occasionally snicker to himself. I tried not to let it bother me.

I was vindicated when a short while later he was ensnared by the very self same tree (there is justice in this world)! The tables were turned, and I was relieved that he wouldn't be able to tease me about it anymore. Of course I couldn't resist teasing him as I helped to untangle him. I was surprised to hear him laughing along with me. It takes a rare sort of person to do that. He is full of surprises.

When our work was through unpacking the precious raw samples we had gathered, a tray appeared with sandwiches, coffee and tea. Snape indicated that I should sit and have some. It was a little weird, but after a while we were talking just as we had in the forest– that is to say, amicably. I opted for the coffee, since I was a bit tired and I didn't want the evening to end.

I finally went to bed when I could no longer control the yawns that were overtaking me. I think Professor Snape was sad to see me go. I think he's a bit lonely. Now I'm sounding maudlin. I'll post this now and kip on down to breakfast.

Your friend,

Hermione


	6. Chapter 6

October 31st

Dear Daddy Long Legs.

What a wonderful day today was! I love you for making it possible for me to be here at Hogwarts, really, I do! When you are ever in need of a clever little witch, let me know, and I shall rush to your side.

I had a most wonderful evening. I was working for the professor and we were walking in the forbidden forest gathering ingredients that are most powerful under the waning moon. The air was so crisp. I had forgotten my cloak. I know what you're thinking daddy.

Typical Gryffindor.

In my defense, it was warm when I arrived in the dungeons for my work assignment. As I was saying, it was a bit chilly out in the forest. Never-the-less, professor Snape was a gentleman and offered me his cloak. It was so warm it felt heavenly. It smelled like fire and clean man. When we finished gathering the plants and some roots we returned to the dungeons.

I never really thought about the potions' master being a man. He has always been beyond the bounds of wonder. I used to think that the professors lived for teaching, and at the end of the day they turned into pumpkins, or other such nonsense. I guess I am guilty of indifference. I had always assumed that what was going on my life was infinitely more interesting and worthy of attention than that of someone years ahead of me.

We took the specimens gathered out of the burlap bags that we use for harvesting. I was being careful of the thorns on the orange roseweed, but not careful enough. Two tiny barbs buried themselves into my skin of my wrist. It was quite painful. The professor dug them out carefully and applied a poultice to draw out the remaining resin beneath the surface.

As I couldn't work with the poultice on, and, as he wanted to ensure that I had no negative side effects from the contact with the volatile weed; he led me to a room off to the side of his office. I think I was in his sitting room, but perhaps all teachers have a lounge off their office in which to relax. How would I know?

He drew up some tea, and had me sit on this beautiful old sofa with a curving back. It was soft and welcoming. It was my first chance to sit all day. It was the epitome of comfort, and that is all I have to say on that matter.

He took a chair opposite of me, and I was a scared that I'd ruined my chances of continuing to work with him, and here he was, acting the nursemaid. He looked at me, and let me tell you daddy, it was intimidating. After a while he leaned back in his chair. He started telling me the uses of some of the plants we had gathered that I had never read in any book. He had my complete attention. He has a deep voice, and the way he speaks when talking about something he loves is entrancing. It seemed as though every word he spoke was planted firmly into my memory. Several hours later, our tea drunk, any danger of side effects over, I felt it was time to leave. I could see the sky was dawning clear and bright.

Go ahead and think it daddy, Typical Gryffindor.

Ohh, how I needed sleep! My eyes were scratchy in their sockets against my eyelids, and my yawns were evident. I felt guilty for keeping the professor up all night. We returned to his office just as the sun burst over the mountains, flooding the window.

He tried to valiantly to conceal a yawn. I already knew I needed some rest, and here was confirmation that he did also. I felt guilty that he would have no rest before teaching, whereas I would just use my time turner and return to the time before our evening together to return to my quarters for a good night's sleep. I pulled my time turner out from underneath my robes, and after he had resumed his seat I came up to him. He didn't seem surprised that I had it. I was just about to offer to share it when he sighed. Now here's the part where I ask you to keep this in confidence.

I trust you to do so as you have kept all my other confidences.

"Miss Granger," he said to me, "think of the consequence of us using that together. We will be required to keep an eye on each other to ensure we do not stumble upon ourselves. Do you really want to spend another night in my company?"

I nodded. He closed his eyes for a moment; probably asking the saints to grant him patience. A moment later he opened them, apparently he'd made a decision. He walked over to a wall made of stone.. The same wall that I could have sworn held a door earlier. He placed his hand upon the smooth stone. He spoke directly to the castle.

He asked the castle to provide another suite of rooms, a sitting room, and two bed chambers, if it wouldn't mind. A moment later, a door appeared where his hand had been, and he opened it.

He walked into the sitting room, much like the one we shared earlier. I was startled to see the versatility of the enchanted castle. I wondered if this castle communication could be used elsewhere in the castle. I'll have to experiment.

Daddy, the professor is much taller than me. Why I bet he's almost as tall as you! He looked at me, and I could see amusement dancing in his eyes, though his expression revealed none of it.

I gathered my courage and stepped up close to him. I had extended the chain upwards but I couldn't quite lift it over his head. He could have easily ducked beneath it. Yet he didn't. I took off my shoe and quickly transfigured it into a step stool. Again I raised the chain up and this time it slipped easily over his head. I could feel the warmth radiating off his body. I could smell the scent of his skin.

I don't know what came over me. I turned the mechanism 8 times and waited for the room to stop spinning. Instead of pulling the chain off him as I should have, I wrapped my arms around him and hugged him.

I think he may have hugged me back for the tiniest moment before he reached up and took the chain from around his neck. He stepped away from me and pointed to the room across from us. "You sleep in there. I'll set an alarm to wake you in plenty of time." So into this beautiful bedchamber I went. I slept wonderfully!

It seemed like a blink of an eye that professor was sitting next to me trying to gently wake me. I cracked my eye open to see him perched on the edge of my bed, smoothing my hair away from my face. His face was somber as he looked at me petting me gently. I don't think he trusts people much. I closed my eyes and savored the feeling of his long fingers gently combing my hair. I don't know how he knew I was awake, but he did. He stopped abruptly and ordered me out of bed. Then he left the room.

So where does that put me? Does it change our relationship? Have I made a huge mistake? I wonder if there are any school rules about seeing a professor. Will you let me know?

Your friend,

Hermione Granger

Severus Snape reached the last lines of her missive when he choked on his coffee and spewed it across the other members seated at the staff table. Hot coffee drenched most of the edible food in front of him. Giving it a last minute glare he dismissed himself from the table. He stuffed the parchment into the interior pockets of his robes as they billowed behind him.

Down at the student's tables many were looking on at the scene and wondered what on earth was going on!


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer. Not mine. I wish it were.

November 1

Miss Granger

Head Girl, Hogwarts

Dear Miss Granger;

At the dictate of my employer I am responding to your last letter. Mr. Smith is concerned that you are not concentrating on your studies as much as you should. He therefore is willing to cover any financial expenses you have until your education is complete. In short, he requests that you cease your employment.

In response to your question, there are school rules about seeing a professor. You may not pursue that line of thought while you attend Hogwarts, of this he is quite adamant. Should you have further inquiries he suggests that you do not hesitate to ask.

Sincerely,

Sam

Hermione crumpled the letter and threw it into the fire. The edges curled up and the parchment blackened, the flames licking at it greedily. Hermione watched as it shriveled, succumbing to the flames. As it burned, and her tears were burning hot in her eyes along with it, yet the tears refused to fall. Her heart contracted into a tight ball of ache.

Hermione grabbed her handkerchief out of her inner pocket and wiped surreptitiously at her eyes and nose. Other students in her house were oblivious to her distress. A few feet away at a heavily-scarred mahogany table a pair of second years were involved in a competitive game of checkers, while others were gathered in happily-gossiping groups. No one noticed the pinched pale features of Hermione Granger. The fire consumed the remnants of the letter, only ash remained.

The worst part was, she reflected, was that her dear daddy long legs was right. This was her NEWT year, after all, and she really did need to study and pass with exceptional grades. That she had even been given a scholarship was unprecedented. She felt it was her responsibility to blaze a path that other bright witches could follow. No matter what her feelings for a professor, she wasn't about to ruin her opportunity by falling behind as she had in arithmancy.

With a sigh she gathered her books and random pieces of parchment strewn about her and carried them up to her dormitory. She paused in front of the looking glass and picked critically at her hair. By the end of the day it was always half-undone; stray wisps escaped, defying the carefully plaited hair style of the morning. There was no time to fix it. It would have to do.

Hermione still had to go to work this evening. At the very least she owed the professor an explanation. She made her way back down the stairs and into the common room.

"Hey, Hermione," Ron called from across the room. He, Harry, and Ginny we settled near him on adjoining armchairs. "Come join us. We're about to go over our quidditch practice and see where we can improve!" He patted the cushion near him in invitation.

His hair, dripping with sweat, was plastered to his head. Grimy rivulets where sweat and dirt had mixed ran down the side of his face. Hermione could smell the odor rolling of her friends from her position at the bottom of the stairs. She scrunched up her nose to the offensive smell.

"No thanks Ron." She replied, trying to sound regretful.

"I'm just on my way to work with professor Snape. You know, the job you said I should apply for." she said with an impish smile. She knew it irked him, and it pleased her to see his smile turn into a scowl.

"Suit yourself. Hey, mum wants to know if she can expect you for Christmas. You will come, won't you?" he asked somewhat petulantly. He knew that Hermione liked to spend the holidays with her folks.

Hermione looked at him, and tried to determine if he was asking because he still wanted to go out with her. She could only see friendship in the offer. Her heart ached at the thought of Christmas, no one to celebrate it with, no home to return to. For a moment she felt utterly alone. Taking a deep breath, and fighting the lump in her throat, she answered him.

"Tell your mum that I'd love to." With a hurried glance at her watch, Hermione continued, "I've got to run or I'll be late."

She made her way to the portrait hole to choruses of "See you." Hermione flew across the room, out the portrait hole, and down the steps, her robes swirling about her in her haste. She reached the potions preparatory lab just a few minutes after seven.

Severus Snape looked up at the sound of hurried footsteps.

He was surprised the Hermione had come after the letter he had his brother send earlier.

Typical Griffindor, he grimaced to himself. He schooled his features into his normal unfriendly countenance. Hermione opened the door to the classroom, and entered quickly at the sight of Snape already at the workbench.

She met the flat eyes of her professor. There was no welcoming gleam that she had come to expect. Her steps faltered. "Good evening, Professor." She said.

"Miss Granger." he responded flatly. He turned his back on her, stripping tender leaves from a long woody stem.

Hermione had busied herself laying the freshly stripped leaves on their drying racks. This had been one of the routing tasks after a night of gathering.

"I wasn't expecting you tonight," he ventured after awhile.

Her hands stilled. What was he saying? Why wasn't he expecting her tonight? Her shoulders stiffened. "I'm sorry sir, what do you mean?"

"I've received a letter. Apparently you have garnered the concern of a certain school governor. As a result, you will no longer be working for me." His voice was flat as he relayed this information. His hands continued stripping the leaves, working methodically from base to tip of each stalk.

"So, this is it?" Hermione's voice broke. The tears that had threatened earlier began to course down her cheeks, her heart beating painfully against her ribcage.

Not one to mince words Severus Snape replied, "I think it best." Hermione, eyes downcast, never noticed the look of sadness that crossed his features for the briefest moment as the words slid from between his thin lips.

Hermione's breath caught in her throat. She turned disbelieving eyes on her professor. His back was stiff, and he was not looking at her. Hermione did all she could think of to do at that moment. She fled.

Severus Snape watched her go.


	8. Chapter 8

Nov 2nd,

Dear John Smith,

I had a terrible night last night. I had my own personal pity party. I cried over everything that's gone wrong in my life lately. There's a room on the sixth floor that can only be found when there is need for it. This room; the room of requirement, was my solace last night. I had chocolates with cream centers, tissues, and the most comfortable bed I have ever thrown myself over.

I'm a Gryffindor; dramatics are part of my nature. If you've read the school reports in my file, I am sure you were already aware of that. After awhile, I couldn't stand myself. So, you told me, in not so many words, to quit a job I love. I needed to work on Arithmancy anyway. It wasn't the end of the world. I hate it when people get in a funk and don't ever seem to get out of it. I am not that way at all.

As much as it pains me to say it, you were right. I do need to concentrate more on my studies. It's ironic, isn't it, that you seem to share the same opinion as I? That was something my former boss has been pestering me over for weeks, I should have listened to him.

You know something? The two most important men in my life lately have been you and my former employer. Notice I said former? Yes, that's right. As of last night I no longer work for him. He says that you wrote to him. Although I wish you hadn't done that, I would love to know what you had written; it would make understanding his reaction so much easier.

I'm trying not to hold a grudge about the letter you've sent me, and I feel betrayed that you sent one to him. Why did you do it. Didn't you trust me enough? I know you've got my best interest at heart. Didn't you know, daddy dear, that you'll catch more pixies with flowers than fertilizer? A few flowers to soften the blow next time, o.k.?

The only nice thing about last night was the invitation to spend the Christmas Holidays with my friends the Weasleys. As you have so charitably offered to cover my up-coming expenses, is Christmas shopping included as well?

Speaking of Christmas let me ask you something. What size feet do you have? Are they small, medium, or large? I learned how to knit a few years ago, and I've decided that a nice older gentleman, such as you, could use a pair of 'always warm' slippers. I want to make sure that they fit you, so please let me know. Before you start protesting that knitting them will take too much time, I must warn you that I have my mind made up. Send me your size requirements, and I will be glad to make them for you with love.

I've scheduled some time with Professor Vector today. I want to make sure that I understand the new concepts we've been studying, and that I am applying them in the appropriate context. I'll keep you posted on my progress.

Thanks for caring about me, in your own way, and since you aren't likely to ask; I forgive you for meddling, but just this once.

Your dutiful student who is learning by leaps and bounds,

Hermione

November 9th

Dear Daddy Long legs,

I've had a lovely Hogsmeade weekend. This has been the first real day off I've had since term started. I've finally caught up with my arithmancy homework, and Professor Flitwick has been loaning me some of his Journeyman texts. Outside of my regular classes, I've been studying theorem that many junior masters are learning. I feel the magic course through my veins, and I have you to thank for it.

While in Hogsmeade, I went into Honeydukes, the local sweet shop, to buy some chocolate frogs, and a couple sugar quills. Really, the things wizards take to enchanting, for example chocolate to animate frogs, Quite an appetite killer. I got over my squeamishness back in first year, and I think they the chocolate is the moste delicious I have ever had.

I went to see my parents' graves today. I had a faculty escort. Headmistress McGonagall and I apparated from Hogsmeade to the cemetery in Kent. I knelt in the dormant frostbitten grass. I poured my heart out to my parents. I cried until I had no tears left. I don't know how much time passed, but eventually a numbness settled over me. I know that my parents have passed on, but I felt better getting things off my chest.

You know, I think that behind her cold exterior, Minerva McGonagall is a kind, caring woman. When we walked away from the cemetery we had dinner in a small café and talked. We talked about my school progress; the boys in my life; my plans after school. Mostly, McGonagall listened, but occasionally, she would offer insights that I hadn't thought of.

She tells me that I am more than ready to take my NEWT's, and should I wish to do so, that it could be arranged for me especially. I was so glad that it was she who escorted me, and that she listened to me. I know she is a busy woman with many responsibilities.

Considering what she said, I have come to agree with her. In many ways, taking NEWT's would be a relief. No more pressure, no more classes to attend. No more papers to write. No more school.

It's the latter part that keeps me from taking them. I am not quite ready to leave school and branch out on my own. Had my parents still been alive, I would have gladly spared myself the tediousness of daily classroom attendance. Yet now, I know that I am not strong enough, or ready to stand alone. I am lucky that I have this wonderful school, staff and friends who help me daily.

You see, I'm afraid that I'll get out into the big wizarding world, and fail. My biggest secret is that I will fail at life. Not very Gryffindor of me, but there you have it. Hermione Granger is afraid. What do you make of that?

I ask your opinion in the hope that you'll give me some noble advice. Perhaps you will share the wisdom of all your years. Who knows, maybe engage in intellectual discourse with me. A girl can dream, can't she?

Well, as you know, my work for professor Snape is finished. Now, I am treated no differently than the other students in his class. I don't know how I feel about that. I'll miss getting to know him. What I do know of him I respect. I know that he's decent, brilliant; funny at times; he doesn't suffer fools; he's temperamental, compassionate at times, and observant. I think he needs a friend.

My friends have been great. Ginny Weasley has offered to share her room during the holidays, and Ron wants me to help him with his Defense against the dark arts homework. That's Ron for you. Did I tell you that Harry is coming for Christmas too? It'll be full house with Charlie and Bill. Maybe Arthur can borrow a tent from Perkins at the ministry like he did for the world cup.

As soon as I finish this letter, the prefect's bath awaits me. All I want to do is soak in a hot bath and let my cares float away on the bubbles. Have a wonderful evening daddy. I know I will.

Your friend,

Hermione


	9. Chapter 9

November 16th,

Dear Daddy Long legs,

I want to thank-you for the generous spending allowance. I know you don't want me to mention it, but not thanking you would simply be bad manners. You are very kind to care about someone you've never met.

Let me tell you what I plan to do with it, since it is yours, and I feel you should have a solid accounting of it. I've paid my muggle cellular bill ahead by three months; renewed my subscription to the Daily Prophet; bought some reference texts by owl order, a new set of new dress robes for the upcoming Yule ball; they are burgundy and black.

I had a hard time choosing between these dress robes and another in Silver and black. In the end, I decided this one flattered my colouring better. It has a wide yoke and looks like a dream, I've never had a prettier set of robes. You should come to the ball, as a governor, of course, and see me in them. I'll save a dance for you, daddy dear.

Have you ever wondered what it would be like to live as a muggle? Since I am muggle-born, I can probably answer any question you have. I was thinking about that in my muggle studies class, and how, with classes like that one, it's no wonder that wizards think muggles have strange ideas and customs! I'd be glad to clear up any misconceptions you have, all you need do is ask.

I was in the library earlier in the week finishing an essay for Professor Sprout. I was surprised when Terry Boot asked me to the ball. I've partnered him in Potions all year, and he's never shown the slightest bit of interest until now. Can you believe that?

I told him yes. It will be nice not to have to put Ron off. I am trying so hard to just be his friend, even though I know he's hoping for more.

You know what would be nice? If he actually noticed that Eloise Midgen has a thing for him. I see her looking at him, whether in class, or in the great hall, her eyes have this longing in them, how he can be oblivious to this is beyond me. Ever since she went to Saint Mungos' over the summer, her nose is exactly where it should be.

What an odd thing to share, perhaps I should explain.

Once, a few years ago she tried to curse off her acne. Instead her nose was removed. She spent some time with Madam Pomfrey, who was able to return her nose to her face, but wasn't quite able to get it centered. If you ask me, I think the mediwitch is starting to need bi-focals for close up work. Too bad the wizarding world doesn't know about them.

Eloise is really quite pretty, a pre-requisite Ron has to dating any girl. Why on earth he made an exception for me, I'll never know. It's not ass though looks are the only important thing! Boys can be quite juvenile! A real bonus for Ron though, is that she likes quidditch, she's as nuts about it as he is. I've heard her in the library go on about who's playing for whom. Who's up for contract negotiation, what is their value to each team, and so on. She could give Ron a run for his money. Maybe he'd stop trying to talk to me about it. There's a thought. Now I must find a way to get him talking to her!

I have so much to do today, but I wanted to take a moment and let you know how much you mean to me, even though I don't know who you are. Take care of yourself, and don't catch cold, as the weather is terrible.

You still have to let me know the size of your feet.

Your friend,

Hermione


	10. Chapter 10

Severus Snape wasn't generally disposed to pleasantness; a fact his elder half-brother was well aware. Only a family gathering for the holidays had necessitated Samuel contacting his ill-behaved sibling early one Saturday morning. With Christmas approaching, the elderly great-grandmother Longbottom had decided she wanted the family together. One quick glance at her wrinkled and stubbornly-set jaw had cowed the family into submission. Sam was the unlucky family member delegated to the task of messenger.

The fact that Samuels' head had been sitting in the fireplace for a few minutes went unnoticed by the surly potions master. Severus was slouching in his usual dark upholstered leather chair, with his morning coat (which had seen better days) wrapped securely around his lean frame. He stretched his bare toes towards the fire, rejoicing in the smooth lapping of warm air that relieved him from the cold floor beneath his feet. A steaming cup of coffee was resting on an aged side table placed strategically to the right of the chair, a potions journal tucked beneath one leg that was shorter than its mates.

Stacked carefully on that table were pieces of parchment, still crisp and lightly yellowed. Severus held one of these pieces of parchment in a long, pale, slim-fingered hand. He set it down after absorbing its contents, a small smile resting on his lips. His eyes were focused on nothing in particular when he heard a throat clearing itself pointedly from the fireplace. Severus jerked himself upright in his chair and whipped his eyes to the unwelcome visitor.

His sat up quickly and straightened his coat, his eyes slanted with mistrust. "To what do I owe this pleasure?" he asked, his rough voice betraying his fatigue due to lack of sleep.

"Good morning, Severus." Sam greeted. "How have you been?"

Snape slowly raised an eyebrow; he had never received a social call in all his years at Hogwarts. He merely continued to look at Sam, no words passing through his thinned lips.

"Yes, well," Sam continued, a little disconcerted at the feeling of ill-ease his brother could invoke. Grandmother had the ability to make people uncomfortable also, he reflected briefly. Severus must have inherited that trait from her. "Your great grandmother wants the family together for the holidays."

"And I assume nothing could change her mind?" He asked resignedly. At the slight shake of Sam's head,

"I can't wait for the torture to begin." Sarcasm dripped from his voice as he asked, "Am I expected to participate in the meaningless exchange of gifts as well?"

"That would be best." Sam said, hiding a smirk at his brother's cynicism. "You'll know endless grief if you don't."

The holidays held no joy for Snape. Since the death of his mother, which he still felt responsible for, Christmas only reminded him of mistakes, of all the evils he had committed in the folly of his youth. Severus hated the holiday season. Everyone knew that. Everyone respected that. Everyone, that is, except his exceedingly stubborn old grandmother.

"If I must," Severus said with a sigh of resignation, "What time is the blessed event?"

"She's expecting you Christmas eve, and to stay over until boxing day." Sam replied, the smile still tugging at the corner of his lips.

"Oh, one other thing, Severus, you remember the girl you've taken it into your head to sponsor, this year?" He asked, smiling coyly, "Whatever happened with her? I've not had a word from you about her in weeks. First a request, no-- an order for me to send a dictated letter to her, in my own hand…"

His look turned slightly irritated for a moment, "By the way, Severus, I am NOT your secretary! What tomfoolery is this?" Now was the time to ask the question he most wanted the answer to. "So she fancies a professor? Which one? Vector?" He leered jokingly. "Surely she ignored that letter. Professor Vector has had at least one seventh-year lover each year his entire teaching career. It's a joke among the governing board that any female student considering his class for N.E.W.T. level certification should be required to learn the most effective contraceptive spells prior to start of term." He leaned forward anticipating the fireworks of having stirred the coals.

"The girl, as you so eloquently call her," Severus responded coldly, "Is not shagging anyone that I am aware of. She has re-focused on her education, and I expect great things from her." A sneer of distaste graced his features. The thought of her and Vector together was quite unpleasant. Severus decided that he needed to find out who his flavor of the year was. If he were to discover it was in fact Granger, he'd have to put a stop to it. A black look crossed his features as he considered briefly curses that would put old Vector out of commission for the remainder of his natural life.

Sam's smile grew wider still. Severus' reaction answered all the questions it would have taken days of careful questioning to draw out of him. It was obvious to Sam that Severus liked the girl.

"Why all the secrecy about your identity?" Sam asked, "I am sure she'd be thrilled to know whose kindness she is the recipient of." The last comment was made with a glint of mischievousness in his eyes, and a waggle of his brows. Severus ignored the implications of that look, but answered the question anyway.

"The fact, as I explained to you, is that I am her professor. I feel it is best that I remain anonymous. I do not need, nor do I desire, to hear thanks from her on a daily basis. I do have a rather nasty reputation to uphold. Aside from that, I detest Gryffindors on a matter of principle. It would be unseemly for me to be charitable towards any of that house." His voice had resumed its normal chilly tones. His brother was having him on, he realized, and he hated it.

A knock sounded on the door. "Enter," he called, pleased with the interruption. His door opened to reveal Professor Sprout. "Professor Snape," she called sounding out of breath.

She peered into the room, squinting into the still somewhat darkened chambers. "You are late for the staff meeting. We're waiting for you. Last minute assignments for the Yule ball are to be handed out today. I'm sure you will want a say in what you get put in a pickle with," she said, her voice coming in huff and puffs, and yet still managing a smile at her own pun.

She noticed the visitor in the fire. Her eyes crinkling at the corners, a welcoming smile lighting her face, "Good morning governor," she greeted, somewhat more warmly than she'd intended. Focusing her attention back onto her colleague, she asked, her voice no longer holding the note of censure it had a few moments ago. "I'll tell the headmistress you will be a few moments, shall I?"

Severus nodded. Grateful for the excuse to end this visit with his half sibling that he found disconcerting, he rose from his chair and strode towards his sleeping quarters.

"Thank you, and yes, I'll be just a moment," he called over his shoulder before opening the door to his bedchamber.

Severus gave one last nod to his brother. "Good day Samuel. Tell Gran that I'll be there." Without waiting for a reply he entered his bedroom, dressed quickly and strode through another door leading into the corridor outside the great hall. He took the shortest route to the staff room and arrived moments later.

Samuel, head still in the fire disappeared, only to climb through the fire moments later. He was curious about the parchment his brother had been brooding over, but carelessly forgot to put away in his haste. He perched against the arm of the chair after he picked up the top parchment and began to read.

A/N: Writing isn't easy for me. If it stinks,throw a dungbomb at me, but whatever you do, have fun reading.


	11. Chapter 11

Nearly all the professors were gathered about the staff room, Professor Sprout was discussing the effect of thestral manure on school cabbages with Hagrid. Professors Vector and Sinistra were seated on squashy armchairs, trying valiantly to stay awake and failing miserably. Other professors were lingering over the buffet breakfast the houselves prepared for just such meetings. Minerva watched all the interchanges with a discerning eye.

Severus strode through the door and headed directly to the coffee carafe. He filled an overlarge cup, cradling it carefully in his hands. He brought it to his nose inhaling the welcome beverage before taking a tentative sip. Conscious that he was more than a little late, he ignored the sideboard of pastries and fruit. Instead he hurried to a comfortable chair that no one else had claimed. It was, he saw, unfortunately, next to madam Hooch.

He knew she wanted to take him for a ride, both figuratively and literally, and the idea was quite nauseatingly despicable. An involuntary shudder passed through his frame as he tried unsuccessfully to ignore her knee brushing against his own. The tightening of his grip on the cup of coffee was the only outward sign of his annoyance. He shifted in his chair removing the offending contact from his person. He would have to wash later. He dared not breathe too deeply as the air reeked of her fragrance. No doubt she doused herself with it rather that bathe. Ugh, repulsive.

The headmistress watched the potions professor. She and he had not always seen eye to eye, and with the loss of Dumbledore she felt that she was right to think him evil. Now, knowing the boy was fulfilling Albus' last wishes, she felt a grudging respect for the boy. No, not boy, she corrected herself, but a man. Madam Hooch had him in close proximity and was taking advantage of the situation. Minerva felt a slight twinge of remorse.

She supposed she should have saved a seat for Severus, and saved him the trouble of Hooch. Severus usually tried to arrive early to these meeting so he could be ensured his favorite seat, a seat that was isolated with a table on each side, ensuring him his personal space.

Severus drank the hot cup of dark brew down quickly. A look of intense pleasure washed his features for just a moment. The hous-elves of Hogwart's knew that of all things, Severus had a soft spot for good coffee. This morning's coffee was an excellent kona variety. Minerva could virtually see the coffee energizing his potions master and bringing him to his full senses. It was time to start the meeting.

"Professors," began the headmistress in her calm efficient voice began. "Now that we are all accounted for, we must finalize the arrangements for the Yule ball. Doubtless some of you wish to do away with it." She smiled as she paused glancing at the yearly naysayers, "However, as they say, the show must go on! Some of you were less than satisfied with the arrangements last year, so..." With a theatrical flourish reminiscent of Dumbledore she said, "Assignments for this years' ball are in my hat. Please come and choose."

To the unexpected announcement a fair amount of grumbling could be heard. Severus felt a small amount of pleasure. They would all be subjected to this torture. After a few moments Severus approached the hat, placed his hand into it, and pulled out a folded slip of parchment. He returned to his seat praying his assignment wouldn't be too dreadful. He unfolded it and read the precise neat script. No such luck.

Madam Pince looked over her spectacles at the governor who presented himself to her domain. "Last year's school annual?" She repeated with some surprise. "Whatever would you want that for? Well, never mind me, here they are." she chattered as she led him over to the appropriate section, pulling the book from the shelf. "Just be sure to put it back when you are finished."

With his assurance that he would do so, she left him to his own devices.

Samuel opened the yearbook and flipped through to the pages containing photographs of the prefects, immediately spotting the name he was interested in. He was surprised to see a small-boned young woman with an inordinate amount of wild brown hair, sparkling wiskey-coloured eyes that vibrated with intelligence, whose smile wavered when she saw who was studying her.

Sam was convinced. This witch, he was sure, had somehow captured his brother's heart. If she could be judged by her letters, she also had some feelings for him as well.. Severus had only loved one other. Unfortunately that someone was Lily Evans. Lily hadn't been accepted by their grandfather as a suitable marriage prospect, as she was muggleborn. The romance had been crushed in his seventh year. If Sam remembered correctly, Lily married the Potter boy on the rebound. Severus had been devastated; it was then that he started down a path of self destruction that eventually led to the early death of his mother.

By some miracle, he'd turned away from that path. Yet many in the family believed he was on that path still. Sam knew his brother best, and he was convinced that his half sibling had a true change of heart. Sam had been able to forgive Severus his mistakes, and loved him in spite of his rough demeanor.

Now that Severus was beyond the dictates of his familial duty, Sam was determined that this time he should be unhindered in his choice of love. He closed the book and placed it back upon the shelf. He strode from the library, his deep blue robes flowing behind him.

Students were inclined to stare as he made his way out the great doors. He'd been told that he looked extraordinarily like Severus. By the wide berth, and odd looks he was being given, it must be true. Good looks did run in the family.

Sam had much to do to put his plans into action. He passed the winged boars at the gate and disaparated with a quiet pop.

In Diagon Alley, Samuel Prince entered Madam Malkins' robes for all occasions. He browsed the selection of formal robes. He hoped to be able to find the set that was mentioned in Hermione's last letter. He looked row upon row, and found nothing that matched her description of black and silver. He approached the counter and waited patiently a short distance away as a witch paid for her purchases.

"Welcome sir; is there anything I can help you with?" The attendant asked. "A gift for the wife, or your daughter, perhaps?" she smiled at him, showing her slightly crooked and age-yellowed teeth.

"No, I am here for a ward of the family," Sam said, lowering his voice in a confidential manner. "She is attending Hogwarts this year. She mentioned some dress robes that she particularly coveted, and we should like to make a present of them to her for the holidays. I looked around but didn't see any that matched her description. Perhaps you could help me in a suitable selection?"

"Why certainly, sir," the clerk responded. "We've had a few different suppliers this year. Could you describe them please?"

"Silver and black," He answered, "She saw them in a little shop in Hogsmeade."


	12. Chapter 12

December 18

Hermione woke early as was her custom and consulted her diary. It was quite unusual, but she had nothing planned for the whole day. As it was Sunday, and, according to the watch strapped to her wrist, only six o'clock in the morning, she climbed back into bed, pulled the sheets up over her head and rolled over, determined to catch at least another hours' sleep.

A very short while later, Hermione gave up; slid out of bed, and went into the lavatory. After taking a quick shower, brushing her teeth, and pulling back her hair she returned to her room. It was now nearly seven in the morning. The sun was struggling against the clouds. Its first early morning rays feebly entered through the heavy drapes of her tower window. Pulling on a pair of old, well worn blue sweat pants, and a white t-shirt, she settled into a cozy armchair to knit. 

After a few moments, she set the yarn and needles aside and readied herself a cup of morning tea. After it was made, she set it onto the chair-side table to allow it to cool, and resumed working on the last sleeve of Hagrid's brown jumper. As she worked, she noticed that day was breaking outside the window.

The sky had lightened to a deep grey overcast. Clouds overhead became heavy with threatening snow. As she looked out the tall window, she was inspired to paint what she saw. Setting aside her knitting, Hermione decided to try and paint it.

Hermione hadn't painted since last summer. It was a passion she and her mother had shared. She wondered for a moment if her mum still kept her supplies in her desk in the bottom drawer.

'No way to know,' she thought, 'unless I look'. She steeled her resolve as she opened up her trunk. She carefully pulled out her mothers' desk. from the other items she had from home.

Hermione realized that she'd have to make room for the desk. She moved her reading chair against the wall. With a critical eye, she gauged the space, and deemed it to be adequate. She carefully set the tiny desk onto the floor and returned it to its original size with a wave of her wand.

The desk was exactly as she remembered it. She ran her hand along the drawers and traced their finely carved lines. Tears welled in her eyes as she noticed the picture of her mom and dad propped in a corner. They had their hands clasped between them as they smiled for the camera, the surf of water curling around their ankles, frozen for all time. Hermione lips tugged upwards of their own accord even as tears slid silently down her cheeks. How they doted on one another.

Hermione hoped that when she married, it was for a love as deep as that shared by her parents. Hermione remembered this picture. Her parents had taken a trip to America as a second honeymoon during her second summer away from Hogwarts. They'd flown all the way to America, the west coast, and a city called San Francisco.They met up with her dad's younger brother at John Wayne international. Her parents had continued on to southern California to a beach house they'd rented, and she spent the summer seeing the city with her uncle.

Hermione touched the edge of the photo with a shaky finger as she remembered her parents, and how much they cared for each other. She took a deep breath to steady her nerves, and, without pausing to inspect anymore of her mum's desk, Hermione reached down with a shaky hand to open the bottom right drawer.

In the back, as she had hoped, there was a box of watercolor stock paper, and paints. The brushes were stored carefully in a separate container, a carton her dad had made to protect them. The special mounting and space insulating them and protecting them from damage was something that showcased his attention to detail.

Hermione pulled the brushes out, one by one inspecting each one. the bristles on the fan brush were stiff and tight, the fine detail brush was pliable and long haired. As she handled each brush, she could hear her mum's voice, an echo from the past reminding her of each brushes' use.

Hermione rumaged in the drawer and pulled out a collapsible portable easel out and set it up on her desk, she settled a piece of watercolor stock on it and prepared to paint.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hermione put the finishing shadows on her painted winter scene. The whomping willow's barren young branches drooped from the thick trunk naked against the sky, their shadows just as stark. The bare branches of the forbidden forest in the background, and the rough shape of the greenhouses, mounds of earth covered in winter's blanket, depressions of footprints slightly visible in the snow around it. A shovel propped against the greenhouse wall.

She felt it was one of the best she'd ever done, she had captured the beautiful stormy dawn as seen from Gryffindor tower, The monochromatic palette; black, shades of grey, and white were harsh in their simplicity, forcing her to consider each stroke, and its overall effect on the end product was spectacular. Deep in her heart, she knew her mum would have loved it, and that eased the ache in her heart.

Hermione was working on a transfiguration essay that wasn't due until the end of term, months away. She didn't have much interest in it; thoughts of the holiday were crowding others aside. Across the room she could see rays of the mid-afternoon sun battling with the clouds to reach the ground. At the moment, she was unsure which would win.

She could see an owl winging its way across the sky. She wondered idly who was getting a delivery so late in the day. The owl disappeared from view. With a sigh she dipped her quill into the inkpot, scraped the excess off and began to write.

"Human to Animal Transfigurations, and the Changes in the Body"

Here she paused, frowning, scratching out the line and trying again.

"The Effects of Physiological Variations in Cross-Species Transfiguration"

Yes, she liked that title, now it was time to write a strong introduction. She bent over her work, curling one arm possessively around her parchment as she worked.

A few moments later she heard the unmistakable scratching of owl feet on the stone ledge. With an irritated sigh she placed her quill in its holder and rose to let the owl in.

Once the window was open, the medium sized owl flew in and perched itself on the ladder back of her desk chair. She gently removed the parchment tied to its leg. She indicated a bowl of owl treats on the corner of her desk, and the bird hopped over to inspect the offerings.

Hermione unrolled the parchment.

December 18

Dear Hermione Granger,

As the secretary of your benefactor, and, knowing his disposition, I am writing to give you information you requested. 'John' takes a large slipper, but his feet are unusually narrow. Keep that in consideration as you endeavor in your labors. If you have any hope of his deigning to use the slippers, I would recommend that you make them in a dark color; he prefers black.

I know your benefactor has been well pleased with your academic progress.

As he is unaware of this correspondence, I would prefer that he remain so. I wish you a happy Christmas. This owl will remain until your gift is complete. He has been instructed to return to me with your gift. It is my hope that 'John' will have a surprise this Christmas waiting for him beneath the family tree.

Sam

Hermione was thrilled. She was going to be able to surprise her daddy long legs!

December 23rd

Hermione Granger sat upon her bed, knitting needles clicking away as she neared the completion of the dark black slippers that she was making for the dear man who sponsored her. Click, slide, wrap, again and again her needles moving in rhythm steadily towards completion.

The thick wool slid between her fingers as she worked the dark mass around the needles. As her fingers worked away, her mind went over the missive from her daddy-long-legs' secretary. He seemed to care about his employer, she thought. Ergo, he must be a very generous person, she reasoned. Why wouldn't there normally be any surprises under the family tree? Hermione wondered as she double-checked her rows. Her mind continued to turn about in circles as she pondered the different implications of the letter she'd received.

She was finishing the last stitches as she noticed that the sun was quite low in the sky. Hermione quickly finished and laid the slipper by it's mate. She checked them over for uniformity, and, when satisfied, cast a permanent warming charm, as well as a cushioning charm. She carefully wrapped them in red and gold wrapping paper, and attached the gift to the medium brown owl that had been waiting patiently for her to finish.

Hermione carefully opened the ancient glass window. The bird hopped to the ledge and as Hermione watched, he took off out the window gliding in a smooth dive before soaring into the sky and winging out of sight. Hermione shut the glass carefully with a sigh of satisfaction. How she wished she could see daddy long legs surprise on Christmas morning.


	13. Chapter 13

The Yule ball had been in progress for a short while. Severus stood, leaning casually against a stone pillar as the students filtered in with their dates. Pansy Parkinson managed to look as decent as she could, while she sneered at anyone who dared look her way as she danced with young Draco Malfoy.

Severus had to keep his lip from curling in distaste at the site of them. Instead he looked down at his drink, frowning at it. Hot spiced cider was low on his list of acceptable beverages. He took a small sip, reminding himself that he would have to wash the taste from his mouth with something more acceptable after the festivities.

Ron Weasley sat at a table, engrossed in deep conversation with his date. Severus silently congratulated himself on bringing these two together. Not to be accused of having any altruistic intent, he merely prided himself in providing Hermione the freedom from him that she desired. The only negative aspect, as far as he could see, was his hand in ensuring the next generation of Weasley children. He only prayed that death or retirement would come before he should have to endure another group such as Potter and Weasley.

For a moment the crowd parted, and he could see Terry dancing with Hermione. It looked to him as though he was holding her a little closer than was called for. Severus set his cup on a nearby table, intent on striding over to intervene. He'd taken few steps in their direction when the headmaster caught his attention with a beckoning wave. Reluctantly, Severus changed course.

"The hall looks wonderful, Severus!" The headmistress complimented as she looked around at the fairy-tale silver icicles and crystalline snow mounds. "You did well with the decorations. Nice touch having the light emanate from the snow mounds, I never knew you were so artistic."

The gentle glow of fresh snow lit by the moon made the great hall seem even more magical than usual. The ceiling reflected a clear sky overhead, and a large, nearly ripe moon hanging low in the sky.

"In my office is a present from Hermione to you." Minerva continued, "She brought it to me earlier in the week; apparently she wanted to make sure that it arrived in good condition. She said the weather outside might ruin it, and she wasn't sure how far an owl had to travel to reach you. I assured her that I would pass it along, and that it would indeed arrive safely."

With a gently but firm grip on his shoulder she steered him towards the doors. Severus reluctantly allowed himself to be propelled away from the dancers on the floor. "Why don't you head up there and take it to your rooms. Use my fireplace. I'll keep an eye on things until you return," She offered.

"Thank-you headmistress, I'll do that." Severus said, concealing a small smile as he strode out of the great hall and down the main corridor towards his destination. An unfamiliar flutter filled his heart as he strode towards the gargoyle guarding the entrance to the headmaster's sanctuary. As he rode the moving staircase upwards he wondered what the girl had considered to be an adequate gift to her benefactor. He hoped it was indeed the slippers she'd been threatening to make. As the moving stairs slowed and then came to gentle stop at the heavy wooden door Severus reached out a long fingered hand and lifted the latch. The door swung open easily on well oiled hinges.

On the desk a large thin rectangular package had been wrapped in gold paper, a red ribbon wrapped decoratively around it. Two scrolls of parchment lay sealed on top of the package.

Picking the scroll with Hermione's seal upon it first, he slid one finger along the edge to open it.

My Dear Daddy long legs,

Happy Christmas! I've decided that since you haven't told me your size, that perhaps you don't want slippers. Instead, please accept this present. The headmistress has agreed to ensure that you receive it undamaged. I hope you have a happy Christmas.

Love,

Hermione

He read the letter with a small feeling of disappointment as he realized she'd given up the idea of cozy slippers. He allowed the scroll to roll up and placed it carefully into an inside pocket of his robes so that he could add it to the others. He then picked up the remaining scroll, this one bearing the Hogwart's seal.

Severus,

As Miss Granger has decided to give you a painting, I decided that it would be most appropriate of me to give you a gift that I hope will be more meaningful. My gift to you this year, instead of the socks you usually get, (which I despair you will ever deign to wear anyway), is the presentation and framing of this wonderful and original work of art. I wish you the happiest of holidays. I also wish to relay my thanks to you for your continuing support of Hermione. You are a great man, if only you will allow yourself to accept it. I feel certain that somewhere deep inside you lays the heart of a Gryffindor.

Happy Christmas.

Minerva McGonagall

Severus looked at the scroll in his hand to the package on the table. He at last stowed it next to the other in his inside pocket. He lifted the gold package and carefully undid the ribbon. After winding it up carefully, and slipping it in his chest pocket, he examined the package for where best to open it. His long pale fingers worked on a corner of the golden paper. After picking at it trying not to tear it for several moments, a wizened old witch in a nearby portrait scolded him. "Tear it, boy, it's only the paper!" Other former headmasters and mistresses nodded their heads in their own frames and murmuring their agreement.

Severus did so, relishing in the loud shearing noise the Gryffindor-colored wrapping made as if fell apart. He pushed the remaining paper away to reveal the back of an enameled black picture frame. Turning it over carefully, revealed a beautiful watercolor landscape of the Hogwarts grounds. The rendition was almost exactly like the view from the faculty towers.

The same fluttering he'd felt earlier returned, an unexpected welling of emotion caused a lump to form in his throat. After examining the painting for a few minutes, he carefully picked it up, strode over to the fireplace, grabbed a handful of floo power, tossed it into the crackling fire and whispered with a voice slightly husky, "Snape's quarters." He tucked the frame beneath his cloak and stepped in, clutching it protectively against his body as he stepped into the green flames.


	14. Chapter 14

Ch 14

At the Yule Ball, Hermione was glad the fast song by the Weird Sisters was over. Taking the initiative, she tugged Terry by the hand over to a small table that was empty. She settled herself down in a chair that Terry had thoughtfully pulled out for her. He took the chair across from her. "Would you like something to drink?" He asked.

Hermione nodded. "Water would be great." She carefully tucked her feet beneath her chair, careful to avoid Terry's overly large ones. Terry spoke to the menu on the table. "Two glasses of water, please." In a moment two tall glasses of water appeared before them. She picked up her glass and drank some of the cool liquid.

"So, what are your plans after Hogwarts?" She asked.

"Well, my dad's got a place for me in his shop. He's a magical jewelry maker. I suppose I'll just work for him until I decide what I want to do. Dad and mum would be happy if I took over the business. It's been in the family for generations, but I don't think that I'm, cut out for it, perhaps they'll let my sister have it. Dunno." He finished a little lamely. "How about you? I bet you've had offers already. Have you decided?" Terry asked.

"Offers?" Hermione said, confusion clearly written across her face.

"For marriage?" Terry prompted.

"Goodness, no!" Hermione exclaimed. "I'm much too young to be thinking about all that!" She said with a shake of her head that made her curls dance.

"You must be pretty naive, Hermione." Terry said with a laugh. "Many of the girls here at the ball are here with those whose family have made offers for them. I dare say you and I, perhaps Potter and both the Weasley's, and the younger years are the only ones who don't have some sort of understanding with their dates."

"Really?" Hermione asked her voice slightly skeptical. "Then why did you ask me to the ball? I had no idea that you liked me, in fact, I was quite surprised." She confided quietly.

Terry leaned in towards her, and answered her in a low voice, "Because, Hermione. I had no wish to attend with Brown. My parents and hers have had an alliance since we were young. They care not that I prefer another, nor thatLavender has feelings for some quidditch player, used to be captain of your quidditch team, Wood, or something..." His glance slid across the room. Hermione's eyes followed his to Blaise Zabini.The young slytherin was dancing withthe ancient rune's professor.The professor's handwandered down toBlaise's backside for a squeeze, and back to rest on the young man's hip.

"Well, to be honest, I was ever so glad you asked me." Hermione said with a small laugh. " I like you, and you've always been decent to me. The reason I accepted your invitation was to avoid having to accept an offer from Ron."

"I thought you and Ron were an item last year. What happened?" Terry asked.

"Well, I realized that I was just fundamentally different from him, and wanted a different life than he does. Until recently, I feared that he would wait for me to change my mind."

She looked across to where he and Eloise were talking, hands moving about wildly. "This last week he's been talking non-stop about her." Her eyes got a far away look for a moment, then snapped back to her date.

"You know Terry," Hermione said as she stood, "Let's dance, I find that I am not as tired as I thought." Hermione leaned her mouth towards Terry's ear. "When we get close, I shall ask the professor to cut in. That will leave you free to dance with Blaise, after that, it's up to you." Terry smiled as he enfolded her carefully in his arms, and steered them towards their target. Hermione waited until they were close enough to cut in, Terry let her go, and Hermione nodded to Blaise as she cut in.

Professor Dunca Attewodewas delighted to change partners. Blaise, in his opinion, was not a very good conversationalist, but what but what he lacked in social skills, he made up for in build and a nice tight firm backside. Here again, was Miss Granger, who had brains and beauty, and could carry on a decent conversation too. He could see himself in her company all evening. He smiled at the thought of her sweet young body pressed against his own. A predatory gleam sparkled in his eye. The moderate paced song ended, followed quickly by a slow song. Hermione smiled secretively at Terry as he took Blaise in his arms, a look of tender affection stamped on his face. Blaise too, looked happy to be in his arms.

With a small sigh she allowed professorAttewode to lead her in another dance. She tried hard to keep a decorous distance between herself, and her professor, but found that he kept pulling her closer than she liked. She was in the process of extricating herself from his person when Professor Snape tapped Attewode on the shoulder.

"May I?" He enquired smoothly.

Attewode's grip on Hermione tightened for a moment, before he released her with a rather stiff bow.

She found herself held lightly in the arms of her potions' professor. Her heart started to pound furiously in her chest. 'Step, slide, breathe, turn.' She thought to herself as he led her in a traditional waltz across the marble floor. Relief at avoiding an embarrassing situation flooded her, as well as something else she couldn't identify. Hermione smiled at her rescuer "Are you ready for the holidays, professor?" She asked as she cast her eyes about for a suitable subject. Her eyes landed on a large Christmas tree that stood at the front of the hall, the evergreen branches decked out in red, green, silver, and gold.

"Hardly, Miss Granger. Hardly." He answered her, his voice held a trace of annoyance as he continued. "I've some shopping to do for my, ah, extended family before I am to report for the festivities." His graceful steps took her around the crush of the crowd. Neither noticed that some students were startled to see their potions master dancing with the head girl.

"That shouldn't prove too difficult, though I daresay that you've left it to the last minute, Sir." Hermione responded with a laugh that did little to hide her nervousness. "The shops will be closing up early tomorrow."

"Thank you," Severus responded dryly, "for pointing out the obvious. I suppose I shall have to brave the idiots in the shops tomorrow, buying meaningless presents for relatives who won't care a bit." A frown marred his stern features. "Don't suppose you could suggest anything for my grandmother?" He checked himself, "No, never mind, I'll work something out." The song came to an end and he released her from his grasp. "Thank-you for the dance. Might I suggest that you avoid that lecherous fool this evening. He looks as though he's imbibed a little to freely from the facultyspiced cider." He stepped away from her, leaving her standing there processing the information.

He walked briskly towards the halls, probably resuming his chaperoning duties, Hermione thought as he worked his way down the hall. He paused at a few doors, opening them to ensure the rooms were devoid of students. After a few moments, Hermione called after him. "Professor, wait!"

Severus paused at the door to another classroom, but did not turn towards her. Hermione caught up with him. "My date has abandoned me for the evening." She said conversationally as she reached him. "I'd be glad to help you chose something for your grandmother. Also, I have a present for you. Let me run and fetch it, then we can figure out what to get your grandmother." Hermione babbled. "Perhaps some perfume, or lotions, or something..." The words flowing from Hermione's mouth trailed off uncertainly at the unreadable expression on his face.

"Your date has abandoned you, did you say?" A dark look crossed his features. "How fortuitous that I should be here then, to shield you from that idiot. In that case, I shall be glad to accept your assistance. Run and change into something more comfortable," he advised, taking in her spike heeled shoes. "Then meet me in my office."

December 24th,

Dear Daddy-Long- legs,

Its Christmas Eve morning, and I wanted to be sure to let you know what's going on in my life. The Yule ball was last night. Ron took Eloise Midgen, he never asked me to the ball at all. Imagine, all that worry over nothing. Isn't it funny, that on the one hand I'm glad he's found someone, and on the other, I'm sad? Maybe it's because I'm afraid he'll grow apart from me. I don't know, I'll have to think more about it. Once I figure it out, I'll let you know.

Terry Boot, my date last night is a nice young man. According to him, most of the girls at the dance had arranged marriages with their escorts. I didn't know that. He says that was one of the reasons he asked me to the ball. Apparently he has feelings for Blaise Zabini. Part of me was quite relieved about that, I like him, but I just want to concentrate on my schoolwork.

While we were talking, I could see him watching Blaise across the dance floor. Being the impulsive Gryffindor that I am, I thought that he should be able to spend the evening in his company, instead of escorting me.

I must admit that I did something incredibly stupid. I'd told Terry that once he got Blaise to himself, it was alright with me if he spent the rest of the evening with him. So he and I danced our way over to where he was dancing with ProfessorAttewode. Here's the stupid part daddy. I know that ProfessorAttewode is interested in me. He's flirted with me all year, once when helping me to interpet the runes, he touched my breast.At first I thought it was an accident, butwith hisexpresseddesire to see me outside of class makes me wonder.

I usually avoid that kind of interaction with him, and lately he's taken the hint. At any rate, I ignored my inner voice telling me to avoid him, and I asked Attewode to dance. I realized that I'd gone from the frying pan into the fire, so to speak as we danced. I had to keep putting distance between us, and returning his hands to my waist. Professor Snape must have noticed what was happening. He cut in, and I no longer had to endure the wandering hands of that old reprobate. It was gross, daddy. I fear I shall never be clean again.

Thank goodness chivalry is not dead! It lives on in Severus Snape!

I gaveProfessor Snape his Christmas present last night. He seemed surprised, and uncomfortable that I was giving him one. I don't think many students give him presents. Back when I worked for him, you remember me telling you, I am sure,I gathered unicorn root before the groundfroze.It had been drying on a rack in my room for weeks. I had wrapped it up a few days ago, and had been waiting for the right moment to give it to him.Between you and me, he can be a bit prickly, one must choose one's moments.

He isn't the only professor whose getting presents from me this year. As Hogwarts is now literally the only home I have, and its professors the only 'close family' I have, I felt it was the right thing to do.

I had given professor McGonagall an afghan that I had knitted earlier in the year. She's been a little cool towards me since I gave it to her on Monday, and I think I've figured out why.

I can't find the special magical catnip that I bought for Crookshanks. I'm beginning to suspect that he found it, and managed to stash it in the afghan somehow. Silly cat! I would never insult her on purpose, although, you have to admit, it is rather funny! I suppose I shall have to find her and explain to her what happened. Wish me luck!

I'm giving Hagrid the largest sweater I have ever knitted. I hope it is large enough.

I'll pick up a book in muggle London for Attewode. I think its called "When NO means NO!" or something like that. Do you think he'll get the hint?

You know daddy, I've been missing my parents these last few days. I've always looked forward to coming home for Christmas. This will be my first without them. I'll miss seeing mum in her robe sitting next to the tree handing out presents. I'll miss dad holding his camera, trying to get the best picture possible. I'll miss hearing the laughter in their voices. I'll miss seeing their eyes. I know its silly to say that, but I will miss seeing the love in their eyes.

Now I am getting maudlin.

Have a happy Christmas. I'll write to you soon.

Love,

Hermione Granger


	15. Chapter 15

A/N: When I edited the earlier chapters, I combined several making it shorter than it's original 23. I do believe we are on to new territory.

Someone wanted a Sam/ Snape clarification….

Sam is the first-born son of he and Snape's mother. She was coerced by her father into producing a pure-blooded heir before she was allowed to marry Snape, a muggle childhood friend. As Sam only carries Prince genes,(His father is also his grandfather, a magical conception)he is only related to Severus via their mother. Once she had fulfilled her requirements to her father she was free to marry whom she wished (Snape's father.)

this space left blank on purpose.

The cold wind was blowing harshly as Severus made his way up the cobbled path to his Great-Grandmother's home. He reached up to the large brass doorknocker and allowed it to fall. A few moments later a tiny house-elf opened the door.

"Master has arrived!" Squeaked the elf. "Madam will be so pleased." Severus stepped into the lavishly decorated hall, around the elf who was blocking his entrance. He pulled warm black gloves from his lean fingers, and slid them into a pocket of his cloak designated for their storage. He shrugged out of it and meticulously straightened it before handing it over to the elf. He knew he was stalling, and he wasn't proud of it. "Everyone waits for you in the dining room sir." The elf informed him. "Everyone is waiting for you to arrive. Master should go straight in!" Said the elf as he twisted the folds of Severus' favorite cloak. Severus winced internally at the sight. With a sigh, Severus nodded and briskly stepped down the corridor to the large doors which concealed the dining hall. He took a deep breath and pasted his friendliest look on his face before opening the door and stepping through.

As the door opened to reveal him, all conversation ceased. His grandmother sat at the head of the table. He made his way towards her, conscious of all eyes trained on him. He kissed her wrinkled cheek briefly. He marveled at how soft her skin felt against his lips. He was reminded of how fragile she had become as time passed, even if the years had been kind.

"Sit down, young man." She scolded. "You're late, we've been waiting for you to carve the ham." Her hand pointed to the empty seat in the middle of the table. In front of it sat a large ham studded with cloves and pineapple. Sam sat in the chair next to his. Unlike the others, Sam had a wide welcoming smile on his face.  
...

With Christmas carols playing on an old fashioned phonograph, the family made their way to the parlor. A large tree strung with popcorn and cranberry, decorated with orange balls and candles stood in a corner. Every sofa and chair was occupied by his relations.

Severus was unsure where he should sit. Helping himself to the bar, he poured a generous portion of bourbon into a crystal glass that sparkled in the torchlight. Family parties always alienated him further from his kin. He took a large swallow and felt the comforting fire burn down his throat and start to numb his senses. Grabbing the bottle he searched for a place to settle himself.

Finally, he commandeered a footstool and carried it as far away from the others as possible. He sat down and stretched his long legs outward as he leaned against the wall. He set the bottle by his leg. As he listened with half an ear to the din in the parlor, his thoughts turned inwards. Everyone loved the family matriarch. That was certain, just as everyone despised him for sins of the past that he could not change. He looked up from time to time, uncomfortably aware of the glances thrown his way by those he hurt by his choices. A mask of indifference slid over his features; protecting him from those who would approach to criticize. Never mind that he'd been trying to make amends for years, he thought to himself as his lip curled with self disgust. No matter what he did, the taint would always be with him. He swirled the amber liquid round the glass, taking swallows at regular intervals. Little by little the noise of small children running loose was replaced by the soothing music of Handel.

The sound of someone settling themselves near him caused him to look up from his glass. He absently noticed that all the smaller children were absent. Probably off to bed, he thought with a sigh. The inevitable passage of time was drawing that dreaded holiday closer by the second. He could practically hear the seconds as they marched past. Presents were being placed beneath the tree in gaily wrapped packages. He saw his eldest nephew settle on the floor beside him.

"What do you want?" He asked as he took another large swallow. His first cousin, once-removed, reminded him daily of his sins, as he looked at him from his lectern, he didn't particularly need the reminder yet again as he steadily drank himself into oblivion. Even at Christmas he could not escape the reminder of his folly. Sorrow rose up in his throat, and tears glistened in his eyes as he remembered his last visit to her in Saint Mungo's.

"Come join us Professor, its Christmas" Neville said, his voice low. Severus downed the remainder of the bourbon at the bottom of his glass and got unsteadily to his feet. He reached into his trouser pocket and pulled out a small bundle of miniature presents.

"Any good at charms?" He asked as he looked at the brightly colored packages in the palm of his hand.  
Neville looked at the bundle and swallowed nervously. "I'm alright. Not as good as Granger, but better than Potter." Severus snorted inelegantly at that. He offered them to Neville, pressing them into his sweaty hand.

"I am mush too drunk to do it." He said in a loud whisper. "You do it. I'll say good-night to gran." He said as he placed his foot carefully in front of the other, heading in the direction of the place he had seen his grandmother settled into earlier.

"She's gone to bed already," Neville said. A touch of protectiveness in his voice, "She's much to old to stay up to all hours of the night."

Neville placed the gifts onto the floor by the tree and waved his wand with confidence. Ever since he'd gotten a new wand in sixth year, his spell work had improved greatly. "Perhaps you ought to as well, uncle." He said quietly. Severus nodded, and headed to his customary quarters without another word.

The curtains to his room had been left open to the east, a fact that Severus did not appreciate as his head throbbed painfully. He threw an arm over his eyes to shield them from the rays streaming through the window.  
The sounds of little feet running down the hallway bombarded his ears, and he groaned loudly, torn between placing his hands over his ears, and keeping his sensitive eyes protected from the sunrise.  
He moved his arm a crack, and looked through an eye barely open.

On his bedside table he spied what he'd been looking for. He reached a hand out and pulled the small vial off the bedside table. The purple potion swirled in the glass, small flecks catching the rays of light and sparkled at him, oddly reminding him of the eyes of Albus Dumbledore. He pulled the glass stopper and brought the small container to his lips. He tipped it up and swallowed the contents quickly.

The cold feeling of the liquid seeped into his veins, relieving the pounding in his head, and calming his churning stomach. He stood, gathered fresh robes and headed to the bath.  
...

Underneath the tree in the parlor sat presents waiting to be opened. Severus came to down, and hugged his fragile grandmother carefully. She pushed him away playfully.

"I'm not made of glass, Severus," she patted the sofa next to her.

"Sit here, have some coffee." She said as she drew a cup with her wand. It swirled in the air for a moment, the solidified, and already full of dark aromatic brew. The cup settled into his outstretched fingers, and he gratefully drank the hot liquid. Children ran pell mell into the room.

"Presents!" They squealed in unison. They dived under the low branches grabbing and reading tags out loud. Soon the air was filled with flying presents, screams of delights, and newly unwrapped gifts. Severus watched them, his eyes unreadable.

Celia screamed in delight. "Oncle Severus, here's one for you." He jerked his hands up in surprise and defly caught the package that was sailing towards him in his hands. He turned it over and over in his hands, unsure what to do with it.

"Go on, open it," Grandmother advised. "It won't bite. You know nothing evil can come into this house," Her wrinkled hand gestured to the gift, "Open it." She urged again.

Across the room, Samuel watched from the corner of his eye, trying not to show too much interest. He watched as his brother peeled away the wrapping paper, and a pair of black slippers fell into his lap. Severus picked them up, a momentary look of wonder crossing his face. Was that a tear sparkling in his eye? Sam wondered as he turned his attention back to his own children.

"Neville!" Celia shouted out again in her accented voice, "One for you fromSeverus!" Neville wasn't as lucky, and the green wrapped present hit him square in the chest, before falling to the floor.

Neville bent and picked it up uncertainly. He removed the paper from the gift slowly, as though afraid it would hurt him. Inside the wrap was a simple box. He pulled off the lid, and found nestled inside, a book. He lifted the book out and set it on his lap. His fingers traced the embossed leather title "Herbology, and its use in potions, for the intermediate". He opened the cover, and inside, a spidery inscription read.

To Neville,  
May this be of use to you as you further your education.. Herbology suits you.

Severus

Gran looked on at her six generations of beloved family members and knew that everything was going to be alright. She closed her eyes and dozed among the chaos of the morning.

A/N2: For those of you interested in how Severus Snape and Long-bottom are related allow me to expound.

We all know that Neville lives with his Gran. Gran had four children her first at 18, and her last at 67. The last was Frank, Neville's father.(Remember, wizards have a longer period of fertility that we poor muggles.)

Frank's eldest sister, bore Snape's mother after marrying her sweetheart right out of school. (about 36 years before Franks birth). Severus and Frank are first cousins. Severus and Neville are first cousins once removed. That is Also why Snape's great grand mother is Neville's grandmother. (It works on paper, I promise!)


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

The Weasley family was crowded around the evergreen tree. It was the first year in many that Molly and Arthur had the whole family together. Molly was handling the cacophony with aplomb. She had organized the gifts the night before, and one simply had to find one's pile. As gifts were opened, and exclaimed over, Molly expertly banished wrapping paper to the waste bins as soon as it touched the floor. A loud knocking could be heard from the front door. Arthur was busy taking pictures with his muggle camera. "Arthur!" she said in a loud voice, "There's someone at the door."

"What?" He asked, not hearing her over the din. "There's someone at the door!" She said again, more loudly. A lull in noise and everyone paused in what they were doing. Hermione jumped up.

"I'll get it," She said kindly, hurrying to the door. A small elf, wearing a silk pillowcase, tied with a sash was holding a package under one arm.

"A present for one Hermione Granger." he said, reading from a list.

"That's me. Who is it from?" She asked as she took the parchment from him.

"Sign here please." He said pointing to a line at the bottom with a quill.

'Perhaps there is a card with the present.' She thought as she took the quill and signed the parchment. It rolled itself up and disappeared with a small pop. The elf followed suit with a loud crack.

The present remained on the front stoop.

Hermione bent down and picked up the box, carrying it back into the den.

She sat down on the floor and opened the box. An envelope rested on top of some sort of garment. She picked it up and returned to the group. Untying the twine as went.

Underneath lay a card.

Dear Hermione Granger;

Thank-you for making this holiday so special. I haven't seen "John" so happy in years.

Keep working on your studies, and have a happy Christmas.

Sam

She folded the parchment and slid it into her pocket. She carefully pulled the garment from the box. As it unfolded she let out a gasp of surprise. Everyone turned to look at her, as she held the garment up to her. A low whistle filled the air, coming from the lips of Charlie Weasley.

Hermione blushed to the roots of her hair, and Ron turned red and slugged Charlie on the arm.

"Mione!" Ginny squealed in surprise, "Who sent it, it's gorgeous! Go try it on, I'll help you!"

She said, abandoning her own pile of gifts to touch the delicate lace.

Hermione nodded. She headed towards Ginny's room, and gently lay the gown across the bed. "Where'd it come from?" Ginny wondered aloud. "Your mum and dad send it?"

Hermione shook her head. "There's something I've been meaning to tell you…"

Ron and Harry knocked for the third time on Ginny's door. "Come on, open up, it's time for Christmas supper. We're starving, and we can't start without you!" Ron complained loudly.

The door opened slowly, and Ginny motioned them in. "Hermione wants to talk to you alone. Whatever she is going to tell you, I already know." With a stern look in her eye that reminded Ron of his mum, she continued, "She needs friends who will be understanding, not overgrown prats, and I do mean you, Ron!." With that she swept out of her room and shut the door behind her.  
.

January 3

Dear Daddy long-legs,

I am glad the holidays are over. I missed my mum and dad, but it wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. I told my friends what had happened over the summer, and I think that I really needed to do that. Surprisingly, Ginny was the one to bring Harry and Ron around. I am truly glad to count her as a friend.

I just got back to school, and new term starts tomorrow. How were your holidays? Did I surprise you daddy? I surely hope so.

Hagrid's asked me to help him with his charms. Now that he is able to have a wand, he wants to be a little better with it. I think he's a wonderful friend, and of course I will find the time to tutor him, but don't tell anyone, as I think he would be embarrassed.

As I was coming in the great doors, professor Trelawney was waiting for me. She clutched my arm and said, 'great love is in your future'. Can you believe that? Ron of course thought it was him, and I had to run to escape. I swear that woman is out to ruin my life. May you never have to deal with her when you come on your inspections, daddy dear, as I wouldn't wish that woman on my worst enemy, let alone dear sweet you.

I've had my bath, and I am snuggled here in this wonderful robe that Molly made me. I love looking at the fire, and listening to the sounds of my housemates. I will really miss this place when the time comes for me to leave. My tea is getting cold, and my eyes are tired, I think I'll go ahead and send this off to you before life becomes chaos again.

Love,

Hermione

Hermione tossed on her school robes over her robe and made her way to the owlery.

Calling down the nearest one, she tied her missive to its leg, and wished the bird a speedy journey. The bird took off out the window, and silently winged away. Hermione folded her arms and hurried down the stairs.

An owl pecked at the window. Severus lifted his head from the trade journal he was reading, and looked at the owl, his features softening when he realized what the bird was carrying. He set the periodical aside and rose, crossing deftly to the window and opening it. He relieved the owl of its letter and gave it a treat that he had bought specifically for the creatures bringing his mail. The owl flew off after a moment, and Severus closed the window softly behind it.

Severus Snape returned to his favorite chair, the fire burning low in the hearth, a fuzzy pair of black slippers adorning his long feet that were stretched out before the fire. He read her missive then set the parchment on the stack, a smile flitting across his features as he savored his wine. A warm feeling flowed through him, and he was disinclined to analyze it. He listened to the sounds of the fire popping and cracking as it burned away on the hardwood Yule log. An indeterminable amount of time passed, the wine was gone, the fire reduced to embers. He pulled himself out of his chair and readied himself for bed. As he prepared to slide beneath the cool sheets of his bed, he slid his slippers off his feet, carefully leaving them where his feet would find them in the morning.

A/N: I used to have a wonderful beta, Blatant Discontent. I failed to acknowledge all her hard work in making the previous chapters enjoyable, never-the-less, she was awesome. I miss her help.

L.


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

"Come in," said the voice crisp voice that age was starting to alter. Hermione pushed open the heavy door. The older woman's features softened when she realized who her visitor was.

"I'm sorry to bother you, professor." Hermione began as she made her way into the office.

"Nonsense, child," Minerva chided as she indicated a chair across from her. "Do sit down, and tell me what is on your mind. Tea?" She asked, indicating an already full pot.

"That would be lovely." Hermione replied as she recalled how easy her former head of house was to talk with. Minerva conjured a cup that settled gracefully on the tea tray.

She poured obligingly waiting for the head girl to speak.

Hermione wrapped her cold hands around the cup. She raised it to her face and inhaled.

Perfect, earl gray tea had always helped to calm her nerves. The oil of bergamot and black tea was like a dose of home. Hermione and the headmistress talked for some time on inconsequential things before Hermione steered the conversation to what she wanted to address.

"I think I am ready to take a few of my N.E.W.T.s, so that I can free up some of my time for independent study." Hermione twisted a fold of her robe between two fingers. "I want to spend some more time on transfiguration, potions, and charms. I am ready to take the other four examinations." She untwisted and smoothed the fabric absently.

Minerva studied the young woman before her. Her hair was haphazardly pulled into a ponytail that fell half- way down her back, not a trace of make-up; Hemione was looking at her trainers and missed the evaluating look her head of house was giving her.

"Well, my dear, I daresay you were capable of passing your N.E.W.T.'s at the end of last year. I see no difficulty in arranging the examinations for you. I'll send an owl off right away to arrange a time for those. I will get back to you and let you know when your examinations will occur."

A short time later, Hermione left the headmistress, and to her surprise she noted that it was time for dinner in the great hall. She grimaced as she lugged her bag back to her room.

January 13th

Dear Daddy Long-legs,

Well, I've done it!

Done what, you wonder? Well let me tell you. I had finished myancient rune'sclass, and the professor asked me to stay behind once class was released.

Do you know what that man wanted. Well, I'll give you three guesses.

I turned him down of course, and he insinuated that it might adversely affect my marks.

No, he didn't come right out and say it, never-the-less, his meaning was clear.

I left class in a daze. At first I was angry, then I was flattered, then I was angry again. Well, I won't take a reduction in marks over his hurt ego, so I marched right up to the headmistress's office.

When I got there, I had lost most of my initial outrage, and for some reason, I can't really explain, I didn't feel comfortable telling my head of house what the problem was.

No, that's not true. I just didn't want to make allegations against a professor.

Anyway, while we were talking, it occurred to me that by taking the final exams I would in effect solve my problem in one go. So, I asked to take several N.E.W.T.'s to free me up a bit. The long and short of it is, I will be taking some of the exams as early as next week. I'll send you a copy of my marks as soon as they are available.

After I take them, I shouldn't need a time-turner any more. In a way, I should be glad to get rid of the thing, but I'll miss getting the chance to do hours over again, and catching up on sleep. Yes, daddy, I am a girl who likes to have her cake, and eat it too.

I feel confident that I'll do well, and once I know that oldAttewode can't change my marks, I'll teach him about abusing power. Do you have any suggestions for keeping dirty old wizards in line? I'll use any suggestions you have.

Did I tell you there's to be a Valentine's dance? Yes, daddy there is. I've asked Charlie Weasley to come, and he's said yes. I saw him over Christmas, and he is quite a change from Ron. I am sure to have a good time with him since I know that we can in fact carry on a conversation, but you don't need to worry daddy dear, I will be sure to save a dance for you. I hope Ron doesn't mind to much.

It's been a long day, and I do need to get down to dinner, I'll write you after I've taken those exams. Wish me luck!

Love,

Hermione


	18. Chapter 18

Severus was seated at the staff table when the owl arrived, dropping a parchment on his plate that was mercifully still empty. The bird continued in flight and soared out a nearby window. Severus glanced around and noted that no one was paying attention to him. He carefully opened the letter and read.

By the time he had finished reading the letter rage coursed through him. How dare thatvile man have designs on Hermione.His blood pounded furiously, he felt it pounding against his temple, no longer in the mood to eat, he abruptly rose and left.Hagrid watched him abruptly, andwondered what could have upset him.

Severus racked his brain, thousands of curses being considered, and discarded. He wanted a sneaky curse, something that would affect his own self perception. As he discarded one idea after another, inspiration struck. The answer lay not in a curse or hex.

The problem with hexes and curses were that they could be remedied by the counter-curse being applied. However, a potion to render him impotent would be justice served well. Severus knew just the one; all that was left was to determine how to give it to him without his notice.

Severus had reached his private lab without even realizing it. He went to his store cupboard and starting pulling the required ingredients down for preparation.

.s

.p

.a

.c

.e

Hermione arrived at the great hall and looked to the gryffindor table. Neville was waving her over to sit by him. Hermione moved quickly to join her friend.

"Hi, Neville. Are you ready for defense tomorrow?" Hermione asked as she reached for a roll.

"Yes, I am, thanks for your help earlier. I don't need to ask you if you are ready though." He said with a smile. "I think half the others would be failing without your help!" He passed the potatoes to her. "Professor McGonagall was just looking for you." He waited for her to pass the potatoes before handing her a plate of chicken.

"She said for you to come up to her office after you've eaten, and that she has an answer for you." His voice ended in a questioning tone.

"Does she? Well thanks for the message." She ignored his unasked question. "Pass the carrots please, I'm starving!" She said as she placed a portion of the chicken on her plate.

s.

p.

a

c

e

The next evening found the staff gathered in the staff room for the weekly meeting.

Severus watched quietly from his chair near the bar. As the meeting drew to a close, and drinks were flowing, Severus kept an eye on the drink inProfessor Attewode'shand, timing the need to re-fill his own drink with that of his fellow. Little didthe foolexpect that Sevuerus had added a special potion to the spirit he was imbibing. The more he consumed, the longer the potion would affect his ability to become aroused. Severus raised the decanter and offered to pour for him, inwardly pleased with his own cunning.

A short while later ProfessorAttewode and professor Sinistra left together. That man hadno class Severus acknowleged. Severus smiled for a moment into his sleeve, then made his excuses and made his way to his own quarters.

January 15

Severus Snape

Deputy Headmaster

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and wizardry

Dear Severus;

It has come to my attention that I must attend the early examinations for one Miss Hermione Granger. If memory serves, that is the young woman you've been sponsoring. Do you think the girl is ready? Not many earn an acceptable in a N.E.W.T. level class, let alone only halfway through the year.

I expect to have dinner with you at some point during my few days stay at the castle. Take care little brother, and keep your nose clean. I'll see you on the 17th, and I'll be staying through to the 20th.

Sam

January 17th

Dear Daddy Long legs,

I had my first exam today. Defense against the dark arts.

I metthe school governors that was overseeing the exam. It seems that professor Snape's family has a school governor as well. I didn't know that. Harry told me that professor Snape was a half-blood wizard.

I assume the governormust be closely related to professor Snape as he looks very much like him. He made me a little nervous. I was surprised when he said I had done well, coming from the governor, I felt it was lavish praise indeed.

Daddy, he asked me to join him for dinner one evening to discuss my plans for after I finish school. What do you think I should do? Is he trust-worthy? I trust professor Snape, but I do not know this man. Should I trust him? If you say he is trustworthy, then I will accept, otherwise, I shall have to decline.

He did get me thinking though. Even though I should be preparing for my next examination, I keep thinking about what I am going to do with this education. I really could use your advice.

Love

Hermione

January 18th

Miss Hermione Granger,

Head Girl,

Hogwarts School of witchcraft and wizardry

Dear Miss Granger;

In response to your request for advice on your academic goals, I wish to make clear that the purpose of your scholarship was to provide you with a means to support yourself once you attain majority.

As you have excelled in your studies, and are in fact working on some masters series, it would make sense to complete those areas of coursework. Governor Prince, although a meddlesome fool, may offer areas of insight that I cannot.

In answer to your direct question about the governor, I do not feel that you would come to harm by being in his presence.Keep in mind that any advice he may proffer you is simply that. You ultimately are in charge of your magical education.

Sincerely,

John Smith


	19. Chapter 19

January 21

Dear Daddy long legs,

What a fabulous day today is! I went to dinner last evening in Hogsmeade village with Governor Prince. What a charming man he is, and well educated too. We talked for hours on the several disciplines that I'm interested in. I asked him if he knew you. I didn't think he was going to answer, but then he did. He said that yes, he was aware of the scholarship I had received, but he was not a liberty to disclose my benefactor. As if I would have asked him! I know that you are a kindly old gentleman with a soft spot for brilliant witches. Isn't that all I really need to know?

Who would have guessed that the governor was so well versed in muggle education? He recommended pursuing some muggle training in physics, chemistry, and molecular biology. He intimated that admittance to a muggle university could easily be arranged.

I only wish I could. Imaging all the ground-breaking research I could accomplish, applying muggle learning to magical interpretation! I would set the magical world on its ear with my ingénue! Too bad it's unrealistic.

On the other hand, he did recommend a few people who would be willing to take on a muggle born apprentice who had high recommendations. He as fair as offered me one pending the outcome of my NEWTS. What a charming man!

I've been busy with my studies. I'm reading all hours of the day and practicing for my up coming examinations. I fear that if I don't, that I will forget something that is crucial. Since I asked to take the exams early it would it look terrible if I failed!

That's an idea that I plagues my dreams, and spurs me on.

Time is passing so quickly, and its time for breakfast. I'll just dash up to the owlery and send this off with all my love.

Hermione

January 30

Dear Daddy long legs,

I've done it. I've taken the last NEWT in ancient runes. I hope I never have to set eyes on old Professor Attewode for the rest of my time here at Hogwarts. I will choose to ignore his little pat on my behind as he congratulated me. I didn't even hex his bollocks off. I did however; place an anti-appearance altering charm upon him whilst he wasn't looking. I think it's fair to say that he'll hate his just desserts.

I'll await exam results with baited breath. If you feel any bit as anxious as I, I wonder how you sleep at night! Daddy, if you get word of my NEWT scores before I, please send the news post-haste as the uncertainty is just as likely to cause me to age prematurely!

Do you remember daddy that I'm still studying advanced transfiguration with McGonagall, and it is progressing. She tells me that if I continue much further, she should find a master for me to apprentice under. I love it when she says that, it makes all my hard work worthwhile.

Professor Flitwick is moving me on to jourman 2nd year charms. As he is a master, he is teaching me as though I were an apprentice. Its really hard work, but I am keeping up, especially since I have only three courses to finish.

Now for the less than excellent report, my last class, advanced potions, is progressing at a slower pace. The professor refuses to give me extra lessons. I previously thought I was doing well in potions, but ask today, and the answer would be more complex. The professor has stonewalled all of my attempts to accelerate the pace . I sometimes wish I weren't a student at all so that I could tell him how badly it makes me feel that I don't measure up. Someday, maybe, I'll have to gird my courage, and beard the serpent in his hole. Listen to me carry on! How I must sound like an old biddy passing along the gossip. Sometimes I need to remember to keep my own counsel. I seem to suffer foot in mouth syndrome when I write you, and I hope you'll forgive the silliness of this thankful girl.

I keep hoping I will hear from you like I did a few weeks ago. It makes you seem more real. Nevertheless, my love for you is real. I love you daddy long legs.

Hermione

February 14,

Dear Daddy long legs,

Its Hogsmeade weekend daddy dear, and the boys are wanting to leave the castle. I don't blame them, as they are still under the duress of examinations at end of year. Thank-you for sending me the parchment and quill set. The pheasant feather quill is superior to write with. I shall use it evermore to write to you.

Daddy, you must remember from now on not to spoil me with material gifts, when it is the gift of your word that I desire.

I can't wait for this evening! I am so excited! Victor is meeting me in Hogsmeade this afternoon, and we'll aparate to dinner in London, followed by dancing. I couldn't believe it when he wrote that he had a break in his quidditch tour and wanted to have dinner with me. I am so excited to see him again! I can hardly wait until tonight!

Don't you agree daddy that time seems to pass more slowly when you wish it would hurry along, and perversely, speed by when you want to savor the moment? In any case, I should head down from my dormitory and post this before I leave.

Have a happy and lovely Valentine's day, daddy dear. When I think of all the time I am thinking about the young men in my life, it makes me wonder that you don't repent sponsoring my education. You of all people should know that I usually am more concerned with the academic side of my education, but whatever the reason, the holiday has me bewitched! I am sure to return to the normal girl you know after the stagecoach has returned to a pumpkin, the mice to the fields, and memories to last a lifetime tucked inside my breast. I'll send this off to you now.

With all my love,

Hermione

Authors note: Still writing beta-less. I hope that inconsistencies, typos, and other literary atrocities are pointed out to me so they may be rectified immediately. I do want to note that this story is not Potter-centric. Therefore all sundry material will be furnished as tidbits only. If that inspires any reader to write; I encourage them to do so. It should be further noted that many author's notes have been intentionally omitted during the revision and editing process. I deemed it necessary as it was inconsequential blather.

As a new writer, I want you to know how much each review brightens my day, Even if full of flames that are used to toast marshmallows;as that means you cared enough to take the time to write it.


	20. Chapter 20

February 14

Severus sat at the bar of the Three broomsticks with a subtle 'do not notice me' spell cast upon himself and the seat he occupied. He watched students come and go, and stear away from his end of the bar. He toyed with a crystal goblet full of a smoking pale blue substance in frontof him as he watched students coming and going. Looking out the windowin the late afternoon sky, he could see heavy cloudspressing in on theonce clear sky. The bell above the door tinkled as another wave of customers entered the tavern, drawing his eye. He looked at the leader of the wave and recognized Victor Krum, Hermione's date, and a gaggle of students following in his wake.

Severus noted withblack eyes drawn narrowed,that Victor chose a seat at the bar as he had done, and smiled awkwardly at the fawning youth. He signed a few bits of parchment that was thrust at him, an awkward smile pasted upon his face. Severus watched his every move wondering what a bright young witch would see in this hook nosed, duck-footed and graceless man. Severus lifted his goblet to his lips and drank the steaming liquid. He enjoyed the fiery path it blazed on its way to his stomach.

The bell over the door chimed again as three students entered; Hermione Granger, Weasley, and Potter, Severus noted. Victor excused himself from the youth surrounding his barstool to meet Hermione before she had a chance to find a table.

Severus watched with as she hugged him in greeting. He held his now empty goblet in tightly clenched hand. Hermione and that Krum boy walked out the door of the three broomsticks holding hands, Severus noted. Heset downthe fragile crytal gobletcarefully; threw a handful of sickles on the bar and followed them silently out the door.

February 15

Dear Daddy,

I had such a lovely evening last night, although the weather was rudely uncooperative.

Victor and I had a lovely dinner and theatre tickets in muggle London. After the show, Victor has asked me to spend Easter holidays with him, and I agreed. I really like his family, and I am sure I'll have a nice time although it will still be terribly cold in Bulgaria. We apparated back to Hogsmeade as I didn't want to be out past curfew.

We were dismayed to find upon our return to Hogsmeade, a blanket of snow had fallen during our absence. Victor kindly offered to procure rooms for us in the village. I just didn't think it was right to stay out all night without some form of chaperone. Victor understood, and offered to escort me back to the school grounds.

We talked of all sorts of things as we trudged through the thick snow. It took us a great deal more time than I had anticipated. It must have been three o'clock in the morning by the time we approached the winged boars at the entrance gate. I was accosted upon my return by the school care taker, Argus Filch.

The rudeness of that man has no bounds! That man dismissed my date without so much as a by your leave, and marched me up the main path. I am certain it was a look of glee that made him seem uglier than usual in the crisp moonlight. I have a bruise on my arm from his bony fingers!

Once inside the castle that mangy old man sent the bloody baron down to the deputy headmaster. The trouble I caught! I was torn between being upset for being in trouble, and outraged at being treated like a child.

In retrospect, I suppose I did deserve some type of punishment,but detention each night for two weeks seems extreme! You know though, what hurt the worst was the look he pinned on me. Oh, I can't explain it, exactly, except to say I'm certain that I disappointed him.

Why did such a lovely evening have to end so badly?

I'll send this off to you now, as I don't know when I'll have time to write next with all the detention I'll be serving.

All my love

Hermione

February 21

Hermione Granger

Head Girl

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Dear Miss Granger;

In response to your letter dated February 15 Mr. John Smith instructs you to stay at school over Easter holidays. He is concerned about your education, and feels that you should not allow yourself to be distracted.

Sincerely,

Sam

February 21

Dear Mr. John Smith;

I received word from your secretary again. I so want to go and spend time with Victor. I promise it will not distract me from my course of study. Please write and say that you've changed your mind. Please!

Love,

Hermione

March 1

Dear Daddy long legs,

Oh, please change your mind about Easter. I promise to be a good girl! Please! I'll wait to hear from you.

Thank you for the allowance.

Love,

Hermione

March 22

Dear Mr. Smith;

I'm really angry with you! I am not a little girl anymore, and although I greatly appreciate your sponsorship, I wish you wouldn't interfere in my personal relationships. As you have not changed your mind, I am staying on at school, as youdictated.

Hermione Granger

April 2

Dear Daddy-long-legs,

Thank-you for the allowance that arrived in a timely manner.I have been mad at you, you must think me quite childish tobe angryfor so long, and perhaps youwould be right. I have been acting like a spoiled child.

I just wish you would have let me go. I regret that I ever told you of the invitation, but, there's no use crying over spilt potion, sowe'll go on from here.

I've missed telling you all that's' been going on in my life. Last week I had a visit from the school governor who was here for my examinations. He was here over Easter to attend to school matters, or so he says, but he spent so much time talking with me that I wonder what school business he was able to conduct.

Seeing him reminded me of you, and how petulant I've been. I've missed you daddy, and I wonder if you've been missing me?What a fine miserable pair we've made these last few weeks. Don't let me stay mad at you daddy ever again. You must firmly remind me that you are considering my best interest, and I will try to understand.

Love

Hermione


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